Q: Can I Please Get Some Quiet? A: Heck no!

Sound follows me around. No matter where I live, no matter what I do, noise follows me. I don’t know if that’s because I’m sensitive to noise, or if a life of being followed by sound has made me sensitive to noise. I had one roommate with a sound system that had eleven large speakers. Even when the gain was low, the volume was so high! You do NOT need eleven speakers that size unless you’re running a theatre or stadium or something!

Below is a list of places I've lived since moving away from home.  The stories are very abridged.  Generally I'll describe a single incident or two.  Those incidents were typically ongoing in each place.  It wasn't one night of being kept awake by a stereo or barking dog.  It was a reoccurring, ongoing event.

Most places looked really good when I moved in, but were torturous when I moved out. (I believe sleep deprivation is a form of torture.)

1. The first place I lived away from home seemed good when I moved in. It was awful for many reasons when I moved out, and I should have moved out sooner. As for noise, the landlord used to wake me up with an air horn if I ever dared take an afternoon nap.
2. Then I lived in a place that wasn't too bad, noise-wise. The only thing that really sticks out for me was when one of the kids was visiting a neighbour, the father would yell across the neighbourhood instead of using the phone. My job had erratic shifts then. One day I'd work 4 hours in the morning. The next day, 8 hours in the afternoon. Then maybe back to the morning. There was no consistency. I was getting up at 3am sometimes, so I had to go to bed early. Sometimes I would be woken to the sounds of the father beckoning the son to come home.
3. The next place I lived seems like a real blessing at first. Then I got a roommate who had a sound system that consisted of eleven woofers. Even when the dial was down to 1, the volume was still high. Then when the other roommate moved out he was replaced by someone with more of an active social life, with the desire to use the house as a hosting spot. Larger gatherings at the house ensued until finally the "party of the year" happened and I spent the night sleeping on a friend's couch at their apartment. This experience turned of me off of living with people.
4. But, alas, my roommate days weren't over. I ended up living with a young couple. They were, and still are, friends. Their place was great when I moved in. I had the option of taking a room in the basement, or a room upstairs. I took the room upstairs. We all worked/went to school in the day. Then they switched to the afternoon shift at their jobs and would come home at 1:00pm playing the TV rather loudly in the next room. I couldn't sleep.
   But no matter. The basement bedroom was still available. I moved to the basement room to get away from the noise. But since allowing me to get sleep is a mortal sin, they took on some cat-sitting duties. They already had two cats and one of their cats would fight with the cat they were sitting. They would chase each other all across the floors above me, and down the stairs to the basement and back again. All. Night. Long. There was also the neighbour who would put her dog outside and let it bark. She would do this before she left for work at night, and when she got back in the morning. The only way to get 8 hours of sleep was to go to bed right when she left for work. Sometimes she would leave her dog out so long I'd get frustrated and let it in myself.
5. By this time my friends were saying "Oh, Andrew, you just complain too much! None of your places can be that bad! You're just too sensitive." Then I subletted for a couple of friends in a nice apartment for a summer while they went back home. It was wonderfully quiet for the first two months. I made a point of talking about how much I was finally really enjoying life because I could finally get some sleep; at night and afternoon naps to my heart's content! Then "the heavy weight champions" moved in upstairs. (My friends' name for them. Not mine.) The (rather large) kids would stomp around making a terrible racket until 10:59pm. It started when they moved in. They moved in at about 10:00pm with a stereo blasting.
   
   That was a terrible situation which lasted for me for a month until I moved into my first one bedroom apartment. Apparently there was some domestic abuse, and drug usage going on up there. They were eventually evicted and the kids were taken away by Child Services, but not until well after my subletting situation ended and I had moved out.
   When my friends moved back in, they complained about their upstairs neighbours and I would say to our friends "SEE?!?!?! It's NOT JUST ME!!!!!
   At this point I started to realize that noise could really lower quality of life. As I looked for my next place to live I would ask landlords how quiet the place was. One landlord told me "Oh, it's really quiet! You won't hear a thing. Well...if someone in another unit is watching TV, you'll hear it."
   WHAT??!?!! That's not quiet! Quiet is when your neighbour has a party, and the most upsetting thing is that he didn't invite you, not that it's keeping you awake. Quiet is when your neighbour is a professional drummer and you have no idea.
6. I found a one bedroom apartment in the building beside the place I was subletting. That made for an easy move.
   I had been assured that the place was really super quiet with few noise complaints.
   Then I moved in.
   The apartment had walls that were so thin I could hear when my neighbours (a young couple) would fight — and when they'd make up. (It didn't help that the boyfriend's name was Andrew.)
   But they weren't the real problem. It was the apartment two floors up and one over. They would play their music so loud it would rock the building. One night we fought all night. They'd play music. I'd call the cops. The cops would show up. I'd buzz them in. A couple of minutes later the music would stop. 15 minutes later it would start again. Rinse.  Repeat until morning. One time they all just passed out, and the supers had to cut electricity to their room to get the music to stop.
   Oh yeah, and the apartment across the hall from mine had been converted into a metal shop. They would cut metal first thing on Saturday mornings.
7. Then I moved in with Craig. We moved into the apartment where the heavy-weight champions lived. It was on the top floor. I knew that it would be mostly quiet. I never heard the neighbours on the sides. (Actually, right next to our unit was a storage closet, so that takes care of that!) This was the good place. It was good when I moved in, and mostly good when I moved out. It's the best place I've lived since moving away from home. It had it all - cinder blocks between units, a balcony, reasonable rent, free parking, good landlords (most of the time), the best layout I've ever seen, and location. And Best. Roommate. Ever.
   Every now and again Craig and I would be sitting in our living room and I'd be annoyed and say "I wish they'd turn that music down! It's really annoying me!" Craig would say "What music?" I'd tell him to listen. He'd say "Oh....That music! That's bothering you?"
   See, our apartment building was one of four buildings, each shaped like a capital L arrange in such a way to form a large rectangle from above. We were in one corner. I was hearing music coming from the building kitty-corner from us. It was then that I realized I had super hearing.
   There were some problems there but they were mostly fixable. The people at the end of the hall were noisy. Funny thing is: they weren't the tenants. The units were rented by a construction company and the company would put its employees there. It's really hard to evict a personal tenant. It's easier to evict a business. And if they get in trouble, those people lose their jobs. They had the most to lose, yet they were the worst!
   Someone, towards the end of the year - around exam time - got two little dogs that would yap constantly if they were left alone. The yapping could be heard all over the building. She (the owner of the dogs) was eventually told to either get rid of the dogs or move out. I'm not sure which she chose because I moved to Embrun to live with the McQueens.
8. At first it was great at Chez-McQueen! It was nice to be living out in the country in a big house with a loving family. (They have since moved away and I miss them terribly!) But living in the basement was noisy. Foot-falls and dropped items above on the hardwood floors would be amplified downstairs. Hearing a pin drop was no problem! In my first semester there, it wasn't too bad. We all went to bed at night and got up in the morning. But semesters after that we all seemed to keep different schedules. Sometimes they would stay up in the room right above my bed working, talking, or having a movie night. Every time someone would lean back in the office chair, the creaking would go down through the chair to the floor and be amplified in the basement.
   
   Eventually I moved upstairs to Bruce's room after he moved away for school. Then a garage band started practising across the street. Goodbye afternoon naps! Robin would often listen to music in her room or the bathroom when she was at home - and sometimes when she wasn't. Jane would have late-night Skype sessions with her boyfriend in BC when she was at home. (The time difference allowed those conversations to happen pretty darned late. I was getting up at 5:30am to catch an early bus, so I was going to bed at around 9:30pm - which was 6:30 in BC.)
9. Then I moved to where I am now. I was told the walls were cement. I found this to be false within my first week. Drywall and insulation. If it's up to code (50 STC) then it's just up to code. My bedroom neighbour had a dog that would yap for a half an hour every night between 11:00 and 11:30. There has been a constant stream of noisy neighbours on my living room side (with the exception of one. I miss her!).
   
   The latest thing is my bedroom neighbour — who has been quiet for the past few years — has a really noisy air conditioner. When the compressor kicks in it causes a very loud omni-directional hum in my apartment that can be heard everywhere in my apartment. It sounds like a Mac truck starting up outside my apartment. And she runs it in all kinds of weather. Even when it's below 10 degrees!  Open a %#%&'n window!
   
   Before moving in I asked about noise complaints. I was told they hardly ever got any. I found out why. One time when my neighbour was blasting music at night in her bedroom (with a shared wall to my bedroom) I called the super. It didn't get any quieter. I slept on the couch that night. When I saw the super next, I asked what happened. He said "Well, I came up and stood outside the door and couldn't hear anything, so I left."
   
   So, apparently those "quiet enjoyment of living" clauses in my lease only apply if I live in the hallway. I also guess that's why they don't get many noise complaints. People quickly learn that they're wasting their time complaining!

And that's it so far.  I've pretty much given up.  I don't know what to do next.  By the time I was at Chez-McQueens I was fed-up with noise. That's when I realized that the universe had been intricately designed to prevent me from sleeping.  I am now beyond fed-up. I am at breaking point. (You've just read that long list. I've lived it.)

So when I flip out over a little bit of noise, it’s not that little bit of noise. It’s years and years of mounting annoyance. That guy who sits next to me and talks on his cell phone on the otherwise quiet bus is a piece of straw testing the structural integrity of the camel’s back.

And at this point I can’t help but being cynical. I have friends that live out in the middle of nowhere. I’m convinced if I moved out there, someone would buy the field across the street and set up something really noisy. Everywhere I’ve lived has looked great in the beginning, but quickly degrades. I feel like I've asked all the right questions, but I either get incomplete or erroneous information.

What's the use of moving? I feel like there's nothing I can do to prevent the likes of Led Zeppelin from moving in next door.  Even if I move into a quiet place, history has taught me that noise will appear.  And it will be worse than the last place I've lived.  It's getting progressively worse.  And my tolerance is wearing thin.

You're probably also thinking "Why don't you just wear ear plugs?"

The only people who say that are people who have never used ear plugs. Ear plugs muffle sounds - mostly high pitched sounds. Bass and air conditioners are low. I put in ear plugs with my ear protectors I got when working around jet engines when I worked for Air Canada. All they do is cut out white noise, allowing the annoying noise to come through louder than before.

Besides that, I have a weirdly shaped ear.  Ear plugs constantly fall out of my ears.  And it's annoying to sleep with ear plugs.  In order to get my ear plug to stay in on that one side, I have to sleep on that side, with my ear lobe folded over to hold the plug inside.
 
The following is a list of places I haven't actually lived, but have stayed and have had noise issues:

1. When I was subletting for my friends that summer, I ended up becoming friends with the supers - a young couple. They asked me to house-sit for them (ie: be a part time superintendent of the apartment building) over the Christmas break while they went away. I agreed. I found out on Christmas night that there was a pyromaniac living in the building. He lit a fire in the hallway at about 2:00am. When the fire department came and took care of the fire, and turned off the alarm, being the temporary Super, I couldn't just go to bed. I had to deal with the firemen.
2. I went to an open house at a duplex. The neighbours on the other side came over to see how the other half lives. I asked how quiet it was. "Oh, super quiet! We don't hear a thing! Well....we hear if the neighbours are snoring. AGAIN! That's NOT quiet! I should have bought the place, and set up my drums in the living room. When they complained I would have said "Hey, you said this place was quiet! This shouldn't be a problem."
3. While, technically I do not live at Uncle Joe's, it is a secondary home to me. I pretty much spend half the year here. Last winter, an across-the-street neighbour got a dog, which she would leave out barking for a half an hour or so at night. And the the neighbours on my bedroom side have got to be the noisiest people in the whole neighbourhood (which is infamous in Ottawa for being quiet, and liking it that way! A lot of complainers, they say.). You'd think that in the winter people have windows closed and they stay inside. Not them! There's a couple of elderly people who watch TV late into the night with the volume blasting. If my window is open (for a bit of fresh air) I can hear their TV.
   
   And the younger folks in that house created a fire pit in the back yard, so as long as it's not snowing, or insanely cold, then often on weekend nights they go and have parties in the backyard while I'd be trying to sleep. Recently, the day after I came back from a long, tiring weekend trip I was so tired I just needed a rest. As I slipped into a nice afternoon nap they decided to have an outdoor party where the speakers shook the ground. There was nowhere in the house I could go without hearing and feeling it. (Even as I write this at 12:30am, they were out on their balcony yakking away until just a few minutes ago.)
4. A friend of mine has an apartment downtown. She has accepted a one year assignment out of province starting this fall. Knowing my pain she wanted me to sublet her apartment where she "never hears anything." She went away for the weekend a couple of weeks ago and offered to let me "test drive" her place. I did. I was woken up at 12:20 on Friday night to the sound of voices in the next unit. At 3:20 I gave up and went back to my own apartment to sleep. She apologized and was adamant that almost never happens. She hadn't heard those neighbours in two years. I went back the next day, and the weekend did get progressively better. But I'm still not taking that apartment for the year!
5. About a month ago (from when I wrote this) I went to an open house to a town-house condo near where I live. I was assured by the agent (who also lives in that set of condos) that the dividing walls were made of cinder blocks. "You'll never hear anything! I never do. These owners never do. You won't need to do any sound proofing. It's fine as it is." I did not pursue that particular condo but I found another one in the same area. An end unit. I got as far as the home inspection where it was revealed that there were no cinder blocks between the units; just drywall, studs, and insulation.
   I'm getting really tired of being lied to about these things. Most people are not as sensitive to noise as I am. Just tell me the truth. Someone else will rent this apartment or buy this house.

I've noticed that people generally assume that every body else has the same level of noise sensitivity that they do. I'm really careful about being quiet because I assume my neighbours hate my noise like I hate theirs. But they assume I don't mind their music and sound of dogs barking. (I do.  I hate it.)  My living room neighbour thinks that pounding on the wall is the universal signal for "Hey, I really like this song. Please turn up your volume so I can more fully enjoy it." For me, it's hard to conceive that people might not mind my noise. For others, it's hard to conceive that a barking dog is like nails on a chalkboard.

A friend was over at my current apartment when my living room neighbour started playing their stereo one evening.  She saw my reaction.  She said "That's not normal!  You weren't just annoyed.  Your face went red.  Your lip started quivering.  Your voice changed.  The content of what you were saying wasn't you.  You got hot, like feverish.  Your shoulders got all hunched.  Your breathing became shallow and quick.  You looked like you were on the edge of a full-on anxiety or panic attack!"

It's frustrating living in a world where people don't even believe that such a reaction can be caused by noise, and they blame me for "over reacting."

Our money-driven world seems obsessed with cramming as many people in as small quarters as possible (think airplanes and new condos), don't do a thing beyond legal minimum requirements to reduce annoyances, then wonder why air/road/other-rage is such a problem!

The TV Fast Explained

I've talked a lot about my TV fast, and no one seems to really understand why I'm doing it. I will now explain it.

Why the Fast?

I want to expand my life. I want to do more things. I want to learn. There are summers from my childhood that I look back on and realize that all I really did was watch TV. What a waste those summers were! Now that I'm finished with school, and have a job, it would be so easy to just come home at night, have dinner, and watch TV. What a waste that would be!

What I Hope to Accomplish

I have goals. I have things I want to finish. I have things I want to accomplish.

1. I need to learn French.
2. I want to do some coding. I have been talking about the next Mr. Falcon game since High School.
3. I want to meet new people. I want to have a life. I want to be more social.
4. I want to take up new hobbies, and work on current ones.
5. I want to get out more.

The Problem with TV

Addiction

There's nothing wrong with TV as a form of entertainment, per se. But I get addicted to TV too easily. First I only watch one show. The next thing you know, one show becomes two, Then three. And on and on. The next thing you know, I'm watching 20 hours a week of TV. That's a part time job. If you put 20 hours a week into learning a second language, you'd be billingual in no time.

Habit

I've blogged about my Adventures in Housesitting. One time I took care of someone's apartment. They had a finiky TV set, and it sounded like it would be a lot of work just to watch TV. I was too lazy to watch TV. Instead I read a lot. And I talked to one random stranger a day. Yet, when I would housesit for the McQueens', I would watch hours of TV. I would waste a night away with Seinfeld and Simpsons reruns. The difference between the two places was habit. At the McQueens' I would just get used to watching TV as I ate.  There was always "just one more show" on. At the other place, I never even turned the TV on. Breaking the habit would have to be done cold-turkey. That's why I started when I moved out of the McQueen's.

It's one step above useless

Really, what do you get out of TV? Entertainment, and a bit of education. Okay, if you watch educational TV, then you very well may be getting great use out of TV. But for most of us, we watch TV primarily for entertainment. Do you really need that much entertainment? Once upon a time, entertainment was not a daily thing. Weekly, monthly, or less. Otherwise, you sit around (not good for you) staring at the TV being subjected to hours of brainwashing advirtisements. I'm not saying entertainment is bad. I'm suggesting that maybe it should be more of a treat than the status-quo.  Or find other types of entertainment, or ways to keep your mind occupied.

It's effect on the mind

I am fascinated with hypnosis. A lot of people I talk to are afraid of hypnosis (usually from a misunderstanding of it). Hypnosis is the process of putting your mind into a state of hyper-suggestability. In order to be hypnotised, you first need to go into a trance. In a trance you are highly suggestible. You're not asleep. You are focused on one thing: the voice of the hypnotist. Your brain waves are a little slower than your usual state. And it turns out that within a couple of minutes of watching TV, your brain goes into a similar state. You block out things around out (including your family). Then you're exposed to commercials in this state. That can't be good.

Priority

Besides becoming addicted to television, I find it give it too high a priority in my life when I am addicted. I avoid talking to people to watch TV. I avoid being with people in order to watch TV. Do you find yourself ignoring someing trying to talk to you when you're watching TV? Do you get mad at someone making you miss your favorite show? Sadly, I think I do this. I want TV to have a low priority in my life.

The Rule (and caveats)

For one year, I will not allow myself ot watch TV, with the possible following caveats and exceptions:

1. I'm out at someone else's house (including my parent's house at Christmas time). I'll allow this because being out accomplishes goal 5 (above). If I'm at someone's house, then I'm out. Mission accomplished. However, I don't want to go out to someone's house just to watch TV.
2. I'm sick. Sometimes you can only sleep so much, and you just need to occupy your mind with something that requires less effort than holding up a book.
3. I have people over for other purposes (games day, dinner, general socializing, etc.), and we don't feel like doing anything else. This requires me to move my whole system from my bedroom to my living room. Again, I'm too lazy to do this regularely.
4. Going out to movies in the theatre does not count as watching TV for the following reasons:
   1. It's not habit forming. It's too expensive to be habit forming!
   2. Going out to the threatre requires me to leave the apartment. See Goal 5 (above).
5. YouTube videos do not constitute TV for me. I do not find them addictive. I can only watch 3 or 4 in a row before getting bored with them. So, if someone sends me a 3 minute YouTube clip. I'll watch it....eventually. You may find them addictive. I don't.
   
   However, some entire shows are on YouTube. To me, that's the same as watching TV. I'm not talking about the device, or the medium, but the habit, the time, etc. Watching shows on my computer, iPhone, YouTube, Crackle, streaming, torrented is all the same as watching on a traditional television set. Watching 5 minute clips is different to me.
6. DVD purchases and digital downloads are technically allowed - just as long as I don't watch them until the fast is over.  If I see a set of DVDs on sale for an awesome price, I'll buy them now, and watch them when the fast is over.  If I buy a movie from the iTunes Music Store, for example, that's okay.  I'll wait until the fast is over before watching it.  (This is the most misunderstood aspect of the fast.)

My Progress

Not so good. I started this when I moved out last July. Before I moved out, I recorded a few shows on my computer for me to watch after moving out in order to ease into my fast. But, with no dining table, I would eat in front of the computer. After watching my recorded shows, I took advantage of my 200GB/month Internet plan, and the next thing you know, I'm spending all night watching TV on my computer.

At Christmas time I realized what was happening. So I successfully gave up TV for January, and again for March. So I was contemplating just giving up TV for 12 months - one month at a time. And/or giving up each month. I had already done a January and a March, so I just had to do the rest of the months. I felt like both of those options was kind of cheating and wouldn't really help me accomplish my goals. So I decided, starting in August to go for 12 consecutive months. It is now the end of October, and so far so good.

The Future

What happens next August if/when I finsih the TV fast? Sadly, I'll probably start watching TV again. But hopefully I'll have built up enough of a life outside of television that I won't have much time for it, and it will take low priority in my life.

This Is All Very Draining

Back in June, the main upstairs bathroom - the one I use - got a new sink. When the plug was raised, it wasn't very high. This caused the water to drain rather slowly.

One night, when I was shaving, I was trying to get the water to drain faster. I was jiggling it, and it stopped moving up and down with the controller. So I had to figure out (with shaving cream all over my face) how that worked. I managed to get it fixed.

As I was planning on getting some Draino to clear out the sink I heard a clunk somewhere in the pipes and the water drained really fast. Cool. Problem solved.

The next morning as I was taking a shower, I noticed the water wasn't leaving the tub at all. It seemed that the blockage in the sink pipes had moved into the tub pipes. I didn't have time to investigate until after work.

When I got home Wendy and Jack told me that they put Draino in the tub. This cleared out the tub pipes, but pushed some black gunk into the tub in their washroom.  This blockage seemed to move from one set of pipes to another.

I believe they got that sorted out by now.

All Dried Up

The night before Jane left to school this summer, she did a laundry. Unfortunately, not all of her laundry had dried by the time it was time to go. Wendy informed me of this after my laundry was still very wet after spending over two hours in the dryer.

This is not good.

When I opened the dryer door I was hit with scalding hot moist air. The dryer was obviously getting warm, but my clothes weren't drying at all! Something like this had happened a few years ago, and I wasn't looking forward to spending more time at a laundromat again.

When I took out the lint trap, it had tons of red lint. I cleaned it off, ran the dryer for another minute or two, and looked at the lint trap again. Same thing. Tons of lint. It looked like a red sweater exploded in there!

It was soon time for me to go to bed.  Wendy said she'd be up for a little while later, and she'd make sure the dryer kept going. When I got up the next day, there my clothes were: dry! Thank you Wendy!

That day I decided I was going to research how dryers worked. I didn't actually do that, but I did mention the problem to some people who told me to try cleaning everything out, even the vent on the outside of the house.

When I got home I pulled a huge hand-full of lint from the vent on the outside of the house. I went inside and Wendy told me she spent time cleaning out the dryer.

The following week, the dryer worked great! I was so happy. I didn't want to have to think about getting a new dryer.

Earlier this week, I noticed the washing machine was making funny noises. Uh-oh!

Take A Light Brake

Where were we? Oh yeah. Last I wrote, the McQueen household was really busy, and they had to take their car in to the garage for the third time in four weeks.

Since then, Jane, Bruce, and now Robin, have gone to school. Wendy and Jack are emtpy-nesters with the exception of me. I'm experiencing only-child status.

Before the kids left - about a week or two after the McQueens had their car brakes fixed, they noticed the brake lights weren't working! You can't have that! Back to the garage they went, with me following close enough behind so that no one would get in between and accidentally rear-end them, all the while watching them close enough so that I wouldn't rear-end them!

I think that's 4 times in 5 or 6 weeks. Ouch.

That was back in August. I'm writing this in October, and I'm happy to say that they haven't had any car troubles since. I, on the other hand.....well, we'll save that for a further post.

Another Busy/Regular Weekend at the McQueens

Some work places have a sign that says "It's been ____ days since our last accident." I think The McQueens could have a similar sign: "It's been ___ hours since our last guest."

On Friday I got home to find two cars parked outside our house. They belonged to this couple who are friends with Jack and Wendy. They decided to bring food over for us. They brought the main course and dessert. The main course was delicious. The dessert, however, was this opaque green stuff with brown crumbs in it. I won't go into any details, but I didn't feel good after dinner. And after Jane's sickness last week (Jane had a stomach flu that was supposed to last for several days), I started getting worried. The next morning I felt fine. I was told that the brown crumblies were bran muffins. So, that explains that! I felt much better.

After dinner on Friday night, as we were watching Jeopardy!, a neighbour, Lois, was out for a walk and saw all the cars outside our house. She thought "The McQueens must have company!" So she went to M&M Meats and got some food and brought it over for us!

When the company left, I went to bed, at which point Jane and Robin each had a guest over. Thankfully I didn't hear them. I was completely oblivious.

I got up on Saturday morning and sat in the art studio reading. I saw another neighbour, Sol, and his daughter, walking in front of the house. They stopped by, intending on a 15 minute visit. The next thing you know, Sol's wife was over. She brought corn on the cob. We made the food that Lois brought over on Friday night. Six hours after the beginning of the "15 minute visit", Sol and his family left.

Finally, when all the guests left on Saturday I was able swim for a bit, sit around enjoying the weather, and do some reading. Then Wendy came out with the phone. It was for me. It was the worship coordinator from Blackbelt Baptist. Somehow he found out I was a drummer. Blackbelt was without a drummer the following morning. I was being asked. I said "yes."

It was great to be back on the drums. And these were _real_ drums!!! Not those electric deals! I used real sticks, not brushes or anything! I was worried I might be playing too loud. But no one said anything. In fact, the first person to talk to me afterwords complimented me on my playing and told me his son played drums, but "unlike you, my son plays really loudly."

Acoustic drums are a bit of a double-edged sword. When you play on electric drums, and the volume is kept at a reasonable volume, the other musicians don't hear you all that loudly. Without that loud "thump thump thump" in their ear, they tend to keep their own timing - which probably stinks. Keeping and setting time is the job of the drummer. Acoustic drums, being louder by nature, give that "thump thump thump" that keeps the other musicians on your time. But, if your timing stinks, theirs will too. So, as a drummer, you need to have a good sense of time.

I was completely out of practice. Not having used a metronome in a while, my timing stunk. I decided to go home and spend time with my metronome every day just in case I got to play drums again. When I got home I found my metronome. After about 15 years, it was pooched and needed to be replaced. D'oh!

I spent most of Sunday, reading, swimming, and enjoying the sun. Jane had her boyfriend over for the day. It was relaxing, but still too hot and humid to take a much-needed nap.

Oh! And the McQueen's car brake lights weren't working. So, we had to take it to the garage again last night! For those keeping track, that's 3 times at the garage in 4 weeks.

It may sound like a busy weekend, but it was just a typical weekend at the McQueen residence.

When It Rains, It Pours

Yesterday was a bad day. It was Saturday morning. Usually I take a long walk in the morning across Embrun and back. I stop in at Euphoria, a smoothie shop, for a pretzel and coffee on my way back home. I try to walk 70 000 steps per week. I was way behind yesterday morning. I was full of energy. Instead of stopping at the other end of Embrun, I decided to keep going.

I was well into Russell when it started to rain. Then it stopped. Whew! I wasn't prepared for that! I decided I had gone far enough. I turned around to return home. Then the rain started again. But this time it wasn't just a little smattering. It was a torrential downpour. It didn't take long before I was soaked all the way though. My shoes are still drying!

The walk was about 14 kilometres total. It took two hours.

I thought I had a bad time. Then I got home.

I walked in the door. There was Jane. She was not happy. Just as it started to rain, she was driving out of Embrun when the car died! She lost the engine and the electrics. The brakes didn't work, or at least as well as they should have. She couldn't put on her four-way flashers. She just prayed she didn't hit anyone as she rolled through a 4-way stop.

She tried calling me on my cell. With the rain I didn't hear my phone. She called home. Of course, they didn't have a car. She had it. I was in Russell and about an hour's walk away from home. Even if she had gotten ahold of me, I couldn't have done anything. Jack called a friend who was able to come get her. Bruce biked up to where she was. Somehow they got the car home.

So now they don't have a car. Hopefully it's something that can be fixed easily and cheaply. I'll keep you posted.

---

UPDATE: It was some electronic chip. They dropped the car off at a garage on Sunday night. It was fixed by Tuesday.


On the following Sunday, I took my car to church. The McQueens were going to take theirs. On the way I got a phone call from the McQueens. The brakes stopped working. The car would be in the garage again! Well, as my driving instructor said to me: "Thems the brakes, kid."

Busy Month at Chez McQueens - Wrap-Up

At the beginning of the month, I blogged about how busy the month of June would be at the McQueen's house. I listed the following things packed into the month:

1. BBQ with our Care Group;
2. Re-shingling the roof;
3. Pastor Jack's brother, sister, and her three young boys visiting for about a week;
4. Jane's friend (and her cat) coming to stay the night;
5. My parent's coming for a weekend;
6. My dying of Swine Flu;
7. I forgot to mention Robin's graduation, but it happened in June.

I'll recap each of these things in turn.

1. BBQ with our Care Group
   We had a whole bunch of people over. They all brought food, and left behind what wasn't eaten. We used disposable dishes, so we didn't have any dishes to do. We were able to have the left-overs for dinner the next day, which is my day for cooking. So I was happy.


2. Re-shingling the roof
   This is where the real craziness begins. Bruce and I were up on the roof with Jack. We went downstairs to get some breakfast/lunch. Aurthur stopped by to help out. He and Jack were up on the roof while we were taking a break. Then we heard a crash and Jack yelling. We ran outside to find Jack lying on the ground with his foot intermingled with the ladder. We called 911. As we were running around getting things ready for Jack to go to the hospital, Wendy stepped on a rusty nail. So, when we got to the hospital, Jack was checked in, and Wendy checked in for her punctured foot.
   
   In the end, Wendy's foot was easily taken care of. Jack needed surgery. He has crutches now, and a wheel chair. He's going to be off his feet for a while now. This turn of events is most unfortunate. The day that happened was the same day that...


3. Pastor Jack's brother, sister, and her three young boys visiting for about a week
   As Wendy, Jack, and I were at the hospital, Jack's brother, sister, and her three boys arrived at the house. The boys had done some growing since I saw them last. The oldest was able to really help out. Besides finishing off the roof, they were able to help with a number of other projects around the house. We had a great time when they were here, but I got to bed late every night during that time. It was tiring, nevertheless.


4. Jane's friend (and her cat) coming to stay the night
   We had to pick Jane's friend up, bring her, and her cat, over to our house, then return her the following morning so she could be there for some people coming to help her move in. She was to sleep in Jane's room, and leave the cat in the basement - Bruce's room.
   
   Once I reminded the pertinent people that Bruce was allergic to cats, we worked out another solution. Because Jack wasn't fully mobile, he was sleeping on a bed in the living room. Wendy was sleeping on a couch in the living room. Bruce, Robin, and I were in our own rooms. Jane slept in her parent's bedroom. Jane's friend, and her cat, stayed in Jane's room.
   
   The only real problem was the miscommunication. Jane's friend thought that we lived near her apartment in Ottawa's west end. We live far away from there. We live east of Ottawa. So, to pick her up was an hour away. By the time they got back to the house that night, I was asleep. I didn't wake up the next morning until they left.


5. My parent's coming for a weekend
   This gave me the chance to take a break from the craziness of the McQueen house. I spent an afternoon getting sloshed with a building filled with single women. In fact, they were all sisters. My Aunt was celebrating her 50th anniversary as a nun. There was wine. I'm a cheap drunk. Okay. I didn't get drunk. In fact, they put me at the kid's table! They didn't have any wine there! They didn't even come around with the coffee or tea!


6. Me dying of Swine Flu
   It hasn't happened yet. But it's coming.


7. Robin's graduation
   I was happy it was a small class. Except for the awards at the end, it hardly took any time. First they handed out the diplomas and mentioned certain awards and scholarships. In my graduation they announced things like "And Joe will be receiving a $500 scholarship to Dalhousie University." At Robin's school they said things like "And Joe will be receiving a gift certificate to the Lucky 7." The Lucky 7 is a restaurant in Embrun.
   
   You know obesity is becoming a problem when your kid gets a scholarship to a restaurant.
   
   Afterwords, they handed out other awards and scholarships. This part lasted approximately 3 days to finish. The class size was less than one hundred. I stopped counting the awards after eighteen thousand. Anyway, Robin cleaned up. I think she got five of those awards. Go Robin!!

Now that that's over with, we can get back to our normal level of craziness. Of course, Jack is still not on his feet.

Jack's not scheduled to preach anywhere for the next few Sundays, so we'll check out more churches. Of course, to find new churches, we'll use our favourite search engines; Google, Yahoo! and AltaVista.

Busy Month at Chez McQueens

This month will be a busy month at the McQueen residence.

Tonight, a bunch of people are coming over for a BBQ. That's always a lot of work.

Last night I heard Jane talking to a friend on the phone. This friend is moving to Ottawa. Jane agreed to help her move into her new place. I think I heard her say she could stay over at our place on Friday night; cat included. Now, I like cats, but I'm not sure how the dog, Max, will feel about sharing the house with one. Jane suggested that the cat stay in the basement because Max doesn't go down there. That also happens to be Bruce's room. Bruce came to visit me last year when I was taking care of someone's cats while they were on vacation. He was there for about 20 minutes. Then it took him a few days to completely get rid of the allergic reaction brought on by the cats. Maybe he got over his allergies since then? This will be an interesting weekend.

We need to re-shingle the roof. Hopefully Arthur can help us out with that. The challenge so far has been to find a weekend with good weather. Ottawa weekends have had particularly bad weather lately.

On Saturday Pastor Jack's brother and sister, and his sister's three young boys are coming to stay for about a week. The idea is to do some much needed household repairs. Robin's heading into exams. She has declared she's not giving up her room. So, the question is: Where will we put everyone? I know where I'll want to be: at Uncle Joe's house — away from the craziness.

I may get my wish for at least one weekend this month. My parents are coming up for a family function. I told my parents I'd go with them to the function. My parents will be at Uncle Joe's while they're in Ottawa. When they're there, I'm usually there too.

I also plan on dying from Swine Flu sometime in June. I haven't been infected yet, and I don't know anyone who has been, but it is on my to-do list.

At least we know which churches we're going to every Sunday in June. Pastor Jack is booked to speak every Sunday this month. He's at Resurrection Church for one Sunday, then at Blackbelt Baptist for three consecutive Sundays.

I'll write further to let you know how things go. Stay tuned.

Move It On Over

I hate apartment hunting. Amazingly, I've rarely had to do it, even though I've lived in a bunch of different places.

When I moved from Halifax to Sault Ste. Marie, I got a list of places that rented rooms to students. I called through the list until I found a guy who had worked in the same hospital as my mother several years ago. He knew, and remembered her. I decided to live with him. In retrospect it wasn't a good place to live, but at the time it seemed like the obvious choice.

The following year I moved to Toronto where my aunt and Uncle lived. They offered to give me room and board for roughly the cost of having me there. I lived with them for a year. It was an obvious choice.

When it came time to move back the Sault Ste. Marie the following year I met a friend there who rented a room from someone. My friend was moving out. His landlord needed to find a new tenant. I needed a room. It was perfect. It was the obvious choice.

After three years there, the landlord needed my room back, so he told me I had a couple of months to find a new place. That night I met with a friend at a local Wendy's. When she asked how things were going, I told her I was going to be moving soon. I'd start looking for a place next week. She mentioned she and her husband had a couple of spare rooms in their house they were thinking of renting out. She talked to her husband, and they made me an offer I couldn't refuse. It was an obvious choice.

After about a year living there I decided it was time to move on. I was about to get a job with the provincial government, and I wanted to live alone. I mentioned this to some friends. One told me that she and her roommate were going away for the summer and they wanted someone to sublet their place. It was in the building I have always wanted to live in. It had a good location, nice apartments, solid walls for quiet living. I couldn't afford to live there alone, but they only asked for a little more than half the rent. It was an obvious choice.

(Incidentally, that was the building Craig and I would eventually move into. Craig and I lived in the unit one floor above the apartment I was subletting.)

At the end of the summer I needed a new place. I did the traditional apartment search and ended up in a bad building. It was next door to the apartment in which I was subletting. At least it had a good location. I had a job with the provincial government, so I could afford a one bedroom apartment. The choice wasn't obvious, and it turned out to be not good.

After a couple of years there, my contract with the government ended, and I couldn't afford to keep the apartment myself for too much longer. At the same time Craig's current roommates were moving out, so he needed a new place to stay. So we moved back into the building I was in before. I didn't even have to shop around. I just knew I wanted to live there. It was an obvious choice.

Then when Craig and I moved to Ottawa, I came down with three weeks to find a room for him, and one for me. I spent the first week just getting to know the city. When it came time to actually look for a place I got a list from Carleton University of places that rented rooms to students. I called a few places. I hate apartment hunting. As I was walking to the first place to look at, my phone rang. It was Pastor Jack. He wanted to offer Craig and I to live at his place. He gave us an offer we couldn't refuse. It was an obvious choice.

I've lived with the McQueens off and on for 5 years this fall. As regular, long time blog readers know, there were frustrations. But there were a lot of good times. I spent a lot of time looking forward to moving out on my own. Now that that time is being thrust upon me, I'm not looking forward to it. I've started apartment hunting. I hate apartment hunting.

If you've paid close attention to this post, you will have noticed that the apartments I get through regular apartment hunting have been the worst. The best situations come from happenstance - usually a chance meeting, or a phone call. Serendipity. A God event. I've looked at a few places. I've liked two of them. They're just a wee bit expensive for my taste. (But, it may be worth it.)

Then, the other day Pastor Jack says "I don't want to sell, and there's a small chance we might not have to. So, if you don't mind living with uncertainty, you're welcome to stay."

I don't really like uncertainty. I have been looking forward to having my own place. But something about this doesn't feel right. I'm wondering Where's my chance meeting? Where's my phone call? Where's my serendipity? Where's my God event? Is it really time to move out?

Time For Some Tap Dancing

A little while ago Jack and Wendy found a used faucet that looked almost brand new. It was a fraction of the price of a brand new faucet. So they bought it. We needed a new one for the kitchen sink. This one had two taps as well as a spray hose.

Jack started to install it the night they bought it. Unfortunately, in the removing of the old one, something broke. Jack said "Well, there's no going back now."

The first problem came when Jack tried to turn off the water in the pipes under the sink. The cold water pipe had a valve knob that you could turn by hand. The hot water pipe was missing that knob. He could turn off the water, but he needed a screwdriver.

Once he got that worked out, it went a bit easier for a while. The faucet was the same size as the last one. The pipes didn't have to be modified. They were easily connected.

The only question was "How do we securely fasten the spray hose to the faucet?" You could slide the hose onto a pipe, but it wasn't tight. As soon as you turn on the water, the pressure would disconnect the hose from the fixture, flooding the cupboard under the sink.

We scoured the googles looking for a solution. Eventually we figured out what kind of faucet it was, and what it's make and model were. It was a Delta faucet, which has a life-time warranty. This is good. We found out that the faucet was missing a piece. A small plastic piece that snaps on, holding the spray hose to the faucet.

Since it was too late to put the old faucet back on, we were stuck. The sink drainage system still worked. But we were without a tap. The kitchen sink has to be the most used sink in a house. How did we get by? Until we were able to get that part, we did the dishes in the shower.

Just kidding.

We filled a bucket with hot water at another sink, carried the bucket to the kitchen sink and filled it with the water from the bucket. A load of dishes required 3 trips back and fourth from the other sink. It wasn't easy when we were taking care of Napoleon Dynamite because it kept getting in the way and tripping us up. Then you'd step in a puddle on the floor and you weren't sure if it was spilled dish water or drool.

Jack went around to different hardware stores asking if they had the part he needed. None did. Then he found a Delta supplier in the area. He had to order the part. He got our address from Jack so the part could be sent directly to us. Jack gave him our mailing address (which has a P.O. Box number).

After a while, the part never came. So Jack called him and asked if there was a problem. They said "Yeah, it was being sent by Purolator, and they don't ship to P.O. boxes. They ship to street addresses." I don't know why they couldn't have said that when Jack ordered the part. So Jack gave them our street address.

Over a week later it showed up in the mail. ?!?!?!?!?!

All in all, we were without a fully functioning kitchen sink for five and a half weeks. It's so good to have a working faucet! It's one of those things you never appreciate until it's gone.

Dog-Sitting Can Be Rough

Last year over March break we took care of a neighbour's dog as they went on vacation. We brought the dog into our house. It was a collie. You'd think I would call it "Lassie" because of, well, Lassie. Or you'd think I'd call it "Laddie" because of The Simpsons. But you'd be wrong. I call it Napoleon Dynamite. Why? Because it was a mouth breather. And a drooler. It wasn't uncommon to walk around the house and suddenly find your sock soaking up a puddle of it's drool. It wasn't fun getting soakers inside the house.

I think Max liked this dog because it made him look obedient and well behaved. I've only ever seen Max take something from the counter-top once. Napoleon Dynamite did it several times. It had no qualms against getting up on the table either.

To be fair, I'm sure Napoleon Dynamite is well behaved at home. It's not really familiar with us, or our house. I don't know what commands it knows. It's owners might be issuing orders in French.

And this dog was so needy. It was always underfoot and would never leave anyone alone. It probably has separation anxiety and missed it's owner.

It kept chomping at my bits trying to give me a sex-change operation. Maybe it was doing that because I kept referring to it as an "it" instead of a "he" or a "she". To this day, I still don't know if it's a "he" or a "she". It's real name isn't gender specific. Either way, a dog bite in the leg or the rear is bad enough, but a canine administered sex change operation isn't very palatable, even if it's done with some lab work.

It turns out that it had some sort of mouth infection that made it do that. That was supposedly cured since last year.

This year the dog came back. This time for almost 2 weeks. It wasn't as bad as last year. It stopped trying to perform any operations on me. But, it did insist on repeatedly making sure I was still a man. (I think a lot of dogs do that. Max doesn't. Good boy!)

Napoleon Dynamite walks a lot slower than Max does. Max is always pulling, trying to get away. He doesn't seem to care that the more he pulls, the more his chain around his neck tightens up, and the less he can breath. Napoleon Dynamite doesn't have that problem. He walks really slowly. The difficulty comes with walking them at the same time. Napoleon Dynamite wants to stop and eat the flowers, while Max wants to chase after every passing-by photon. If one person tried to walk the two dogs at the same time they'd wind up being drawn and quartered. (So much for separation anxiety!)

When the owner came to retrieve the dog, we didn't beg to keep it for any longer. One dog is enough for us.

Church Hopping - Part 1

A while back I wrote that I would describe my church-hopping activities. Here's the first instalment.

On the first Sunday I went to a Catholic church. I was reminded of why I left the Catholic Church in the first place when I was a kid. It's boring. Really boring. The music is slow and emotionless. The sermon was ten minutes long, and sounded like it took about ten minutes to prepare. Of course, the sermon isn't the main point of the Catholic Mass. Communion is.

After "singing" a couple of songs to/about Mary it was soon time to go. As we walked out, hardly anybody talked to anybody else. We shook the priest's hand, through his robe, while he said "good morning" to us, avoiding eye-contact the whole time.

I wasn't seriously considering that church as a new home. A friend invited me. She had come to my church earlier, so I told her I'd go to hers.

The next Sunday I went to Beaver Creek Baptist. By this point, I was starting to wonder if friendly churches existed in Ottawa. I walked into Beaver Creek Baptist, and was assaulted with about 5 greetings within the first 3 seconds. Then people kept coming up to me and talking to me.

Score.

The music was good. It wasn't a Brian Doerksen concert, but it wasn't the organ either. The preaching was decent. Not great. Not bad. Mind you, I've been spoiled by Pastor Jack's preaching for the last bunch of years.

Then the College and Career people made sure I had the right numbers and information about their meetings and encouraged me to come out.

The following week I wasn't feeling well, so I went to Bedside Baptist with Pastor Featherpillow. I enjoyed that church, but it didn't do much for my spiritual growth.

Then I went back to Beaver Creek Baptist. I think you need to go to a church a few times in order to make a decision. I had talked up Beaver Creek Baptist with the McQueens. This time, some of them joined me. I told them I'd feel awfully bad if no one talked to them. Almost no one did. I felt bad.

The next week I took Jane with me. She met more people than the other McQueens did the week before. But less than I did when I went alone. Of course, you always meet more people in a group if you come alone. (I'm surprised at how few people know that. They'll show up to a group in their own group, shut themselves off from everyone else, then complain no one talked to them.)

Later, the McQueens said that it was because I was putting myself out there, talking to other people. I told them that I acted no differently than I did at The Meg (a Megachurch in Ottawa). I talked to people there who just looked right past me as though I wasn't there. Greeters don't count towards frienliness, BTW. They're "paid" to be friendly. It's their job. How friendly a church is will be defined by the level of friendliness of the people you meet past the greeters.

Next week I'll check out another church. I'm not sure which one yet. Stay tuned, and find out soon!

The Ox Bringeth Change

Besides being the year of the Ox, 2009 will be the year of change for me. (No, I was not born during the year of the Ox.)

I started this blog to record my adventures with the family I live with, the McQueens. Over time, their cars and appliances broke down less and less, and I had less stories to tell. I started drawing attention to articles I had stumbled across. Then I started displaying my Coffee Cup Art.

Lately I had been thinking I should blog more about my life. Last week someone told me they thought so too. They wanted to read about what was going on in my life. I just had to decide what, in my life, I would blog about. I can continue to blog about the McQueens when as stories arise. I can't really blog about work. The rest of my life mostly consists of sitting on a bus and/or reading.

But this year may be different. I've decided to do some church hopping. When you move to a new city, and you want to find a new church, you should look around. When looking for a new church you need to look for three things:

1. Good theology
2. Opportunities for you to serve.
3. Opportunities for you to be served

When I moved to Sault Ste. Marie I did a bit of church hopping. Not much. It didn't take long for me to find my church and to know that's where I belonged. I just knew.

When I moved to Ottawa, I chose my church based on the fact Pastor Jack was the Pastor. I haven't really felt like it was my church for quite a while. Even though I got membership there, it was more out of momentum than anything else. It could be the best church in Ottawa for me, or it could be the worst. I simply don't know. I don't know because I haven't looked around.

I've only been to two other churches in the area. One is way out in Kanata. I liked that church, but it's so far away! The other is highly populated, implying lots of people like it. Every time I've gone I've been thoroughly unimpressed. It's the church everyone goes to when they leave their church. I don't think I'll be going there. Leaving your Ottawa church and going to that church is so cliché. I hate the thought of being cliché. I also don't want to go to a church full of disgruntled former members and adherents of other churches.

2009 is also the year I'll be moving out of the McQueen's house...I think. I love the McQueens. They've been great to live with, but I'm getting really tired of living in Embrun. It's so far away from everything! I work over 50 km away from home. At the end of the day I rarely feel like going back into town. Nor do I have the time. Then, by the weekend, after driving 600 km (or spending 20 hours on a bus) I don't feel like going in then either. My social life has really suffered.

Living with the McQueens is cost-effective, which is important when I bit off more than I could chew when I bought my car, and when I want to finish my flight training (tres expensive).

Robin, the McQueen's youngest daughter, is finishing High School this year. Once she leaves, the McQueens will likely move. There's no sense in having a house large enough for a whole family when it's just the two of them....and possibly me.

I will try to stay with the McQueens for as long as I can. When the time comes to move out, I think I'll blog about my home-search. Maybe some of you familiar with Ottawa can give me hints like "Don't live there! You'll need Kevlar wallpaper!" or "You should move there. It already has Kevlar wallpaper."

The Vacuum Sucks Hard Again

The McQueen's house has one of those central-vacuum systems. The machine part is in the garage. Covered holes are located throughout the house. When you plug the vacuum hose into one of those holes, the circuit is closed, the vacuum turns on, and you can clean the house.

All the holes must me covered for the vacuum to work. If a hole is uncovered, the vacuum pressure is divided between that hole and the vacuum hose. The suction is reduced.

A while back, one of the covers for one of the holes fell off. In order to rectify the situation, the McQueens found a hand-puppet of a bear. The bear had a big head. They stuck it—body first—into the vacuum system hole. This didn't work 100%. But it was good enough.

Then, one day, Robin's boyfriend, Arthur, mentioned he had an extra wall hole with a cover. (I don't know what you call those things.) He came over one day and replaced the old hole with the new one.

And the vacuum sucks hard again. Thanks very much Arthur.

Another Cold Winter

Last week a major cold-front moved across Ottawa. One day, it was so warm you could barely sleep. The next night it was so cold I needed two duvet covers on my bed.

"Why would one need two duvet covers on one's bed?" you ask.

"It's cold in my room!" I answer.

"Turn up the heat," you suggest.

"I can't!" I answer.

"Why not?" you ask.

"Read today's blog," I answer.

For, you see, the story goes back to the summer. When the McQueens were on their family vacation, on the day they were to come home, when I got up in the morning, I came downstairs to a loud humming noise. I tried looking for where the noise was coming from. Every time I felt like I was getting closer, the noise would stop.

After a while, the noise would return, and I'd start my search. Eventually, my search took me to the basement, then to the furnace. The loud hum was coming from the furnace. This is upsetting because, as long-time blog readers will remember, the McQueens had their furnace fixed last December. In fact, the motor had to be replaced. Now, something is wrong with it again.

When the McQueens got back from vacation, they heard the hum. When they found the source, they turned the furnace off. That was at the beginning of August. The hum went away. The house was kept warm by this big, blazing ball of fire in the sky.

Until earlier this week when it got cold.

One day, as I was sitting in my room, Jane walked into my room with a duvet cover and threw it on my bed, and told me "You're going to need this. The furnace is broken, and it could be a while before it gets fixed."

Even though its starting to get cold at night, I'm not that worried. The furnace will be fixed soon. I think I have a higher tolerance for cold than most other people in the house. I figure that others will put the pressures on the powers-that-be to get the furnace fixed before it really bothers me.

Until then, I have my two duvet covers, and a third one waiting to go.

No Food, No Place To Sleep

We had one of the biggest thunderstorms of the year yesterday. We lost power in the afternoon before I got home, and didn't get it back until about 8:30 that evening.

Earlier in the day, Robin decided she needed to paint her room. If the paint was still wet at bed time, she'd probably sleep in Jane's room. It's not good to sleep in a room with wet paint. The fumes aren't great for you.

As the paint was drying, Jack called home telling us we were having a guest. There's this guy who's raising money for charities by biking across Canada, from Vancouver to Halifax. He calls ahead to churches to see if there was someone in each stopping point who could take him in for a night. When he got to Ottawa, we took him in. Unfortunately, due to various communication issues, we didn't have as much advanced notice as we would have liked.

Ever since the McQueens rearranged the house, we're not as able to take in guests as we used to. The living room, which had a very nice couch for sleeping on, was turned into an art studio. The basement, which used to be mine, is now Bruce's. It has also been converted into something of a den. The basement now contains the nice sleeping couch from the former living room. But the basement isn't the greatest place to put a guest. Robin's room, with the wet paint, isn't the greatest place for anyone to sleep.

My room is in no shape to house a guest. Especially on such short notice.

So, we have this poor guy, who's been on the road for over 3 weeks, coming to stay at our house for a night. We have no place to put him to sleep. We have no power to cook dinner. Luckily, Wendy made chicken before the power went out. By the time Jack and the cyclist got home and sat down for dinner, the chicken was cold!

Ahhhh, just another day in the life with the McQueens.

A Full House With No Royal Flush

When I got home on Friday night I had a long list of things I wanted to do that evening. When I walked in the front door, the toilet from the downstairs washroom was sitting in several pieces strewn from the washroom into the surrounding hallway. There were also several buckets, tools, and towels lying about.

So much for my to-do list. I knew I'd be helping out with the toilet for the night.

Jack was out. Wendy told me about their day. They found out the toilet was leaking, dripping into the basement. (For the first time I was actually glad I was living upstairs instead of the basement.) Jack was out getting replacement parts. We needed a new wax ring to sit in between the flange and the floor. Wendy was watching toilet repair videos on the internet.

Robin was having some friends over that night for a sleepover. They planned on sleeping in the basement. We were also having a bunch of lunch guests on Sunday. This was a situation with no easy solution, with a promise of comedy.

When Jack got home, he and I put the new wax ring down, and reassembled the toilet. Jack went to the basement to watch the pipe as I poured water down the toilet, simulating a flush, to see if it would leak. It did. Big time. (We had buckets, and a plastic sheet downstairs to catch the leak.)

We realized the problem was that the flange was sitting too low in the floor. We needed a new wax ring, and possibly a flange extension. It was too late. Rona was closed.

We bought the parts we needed on Saturday, but didn't have time to fix the toilet. On Sunday night as I was on my way to bed, Jack installed the new parts, and reassembled the toilet. Wendy flushed as Jack watched the pipe in the basement for a leak.

Hallelujah! No leaks!

So our toilet was out of order for the whole weekend, so I've been holding it all in since Friday afternoon. If you'll excuse me, it's time for me to go.

Computer Network, No Strings Attached (Part 2)

A while ago I needed to get a new router. I asked some people what recommendations they might have. I summarized their replies in a previous blog entry. I also said I would write about my decision. Here it is.

I walked into FutureShop looking, probably, for a Lynksys router. When I got to the computer section there was a table with "Open Box" specials. These were items that had been bought, then returned, and being resold at a discount. There was an Apple Airport Extreme. It's normally $199. The Open Box price is usually $179. This one was listed as $149. Plus, I had a gift-card to use at FutureShop. The Apple Airport Extreme ended up costing me about the same as any other N-router. I was also told that FutureShop had a 30 day return policy. So I had a month. So I bought it.

Setup was easy. At first I had a problem getting connected to the internet. It turned out that the cable modem was the culprit. I reset that, and badda-bing, badda-boom! I was on the internet.

I have been very happy with my purchase. The Apple Airport Extreme is a highly configurable router. I was able to give my laptop a static I.P. address. I was not able to do this on the Sympatico router. I was able to forward ports to my laptop. I was able to use several different types of encryption for network security.

Speaking of network security, I did try using an Access Control List, without any form of encryption. I was still able to get on the network even when my network card wasn't listed as one of the permitted ones. That wasn't so good.

My only real problem with it is I'm finding it has variable signal strength. On my Mac, I have a maximum of 4 bars of strength. When I'm in my room, I will have anywhere between 1 and 4 bars inclusive. One minute it will be at 3 bars. The next minute it will be down to 1 bar. 30 seconds later it will be at 2 bars. When it's down to 1 bar, things tend to run pretty slowly.

There could be many reasons for this, such as, I live in a big house, and I might be on the edge of the range. The placement of the router might not be the best. It maybe too close to the computer/monitor in the living room. Perhaps my laptop, when on my desk is sitting around all these other electronic devices which may be interfering with the signal.

I tried connecting a USB harddrive to the router. The data rates were slow. Other than that it worked like a charm. I couldn't seem to share a printer though. That may be because it was a Dell printer that my Mac doesn't recognize.

The Apple Airport Extreme does have one feature that I haven't seen advertised. If I knew it had this, I would have bought it right away without even thinking about another router. It can also act as a bridge. There may soon come a day when I will need a bridge in this house. I finally have one! Of course, when that day comes, I will need to get another router. Well, actually the McQueens will get the router. (They don't need the power and awesomeness of the Apple Airport Extreme. Any G router will do fine.) It's nice to know I can use the Airport Extreme as a bridge.

Computer Network, No Strings Attached (Part 1)

Last week I arrived home to find out the McQueens were thinking of switching internet service providers. Before they did, they wanted to check with me for technical consultation.

Right now, we're renting a wireless router from our current ISP. In order to save $5/month with the new ISP we're not getting a wireless router from them. Instead we'll get their basic modem, and we'll buy our own wireless router. After about a year, the wireless router will have paid for itself.

I have never bought a wireless router before. I know the one the McKays have at home stinks. It crashes whenever you try to watch a YouTube video. I emailed my friends who might have recommendations.

This is a summary of what I was told:

1. Don't get the Apple Airport Extreme.
2. Get the Apple Airport Extreme.
3. The Linksys WRTG45 (what Criag and I had in the Sault) is good. I liked this one. It did everything I wanted it to without a fuss. I find it hard to find right now.
   
4. The Linksys WRTG54 sucks.
5. The Linksys WRTG54 is good.
6. The Linksys WRTG54 is a "bug" in it that won't work with Macs.
   
7. The hardware in the Linksys WRTG54 has been changed so much that the model name doesn't tell you anything.
8. D-Link sucks.
9. D-Link sucks.
10. Stay away from D-Link.
11. The D-Link DIR-625 works fine.
12. No matter what kind you look at you will see positive and negative reviews.
13. Oh, they're all good.
14. Netgear is the only good kind.
15. Netgear is good, but hard to find in stores.

I also ended up at Staples, Business Depot, and the computer guy there told me these falsehoods:

• "802.11n routers will only work with 802.11n network cards, so if you have 802.11g network cards, they won't work." - Everything I've seen suggests the 802.11n is backwards compatible meaning 802.11g wifi cards will still work.
  
• "If you get the Airport Extreme, it will only work with Macs." - It says right on the box of the Airport Extreme "Mac + PC."
• "Any external hard drive will do," when asked if he had any routers with USB ports for sharing hard drives as well as printers. - The only one I've seen that can actually do this is the Airport Extreme.

So, I won't be buying from Staples.

If you have any recommendations, please, leave a comment, or email me.