Muskoka Collecting; The Vintage Vinyl I Never Had But My Wife Did

THE JOYS OF COLLECTING THINGS - ANYTHING - AND THE TALE OF THE LEAKY PIPE

I PREACH THE JOYS OF HOME OWNERSHIP - WELL, MOSTLY JOY

     I SOMETIMES IMAGINE, WHEN I'VE GOT TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS, THAT "HELL" FOR ME, OTHER THAN THE FLAMES ON MY FLESH, WOULD BE TO ARRIVE IN THE FIREY CAULDRON, AND ONCE SETTLED-IN FOR THE LONG HAUL, HEAR A DRIPPING TAP, OR PIPE, SOMEWHERE IN MY VICINITY. I'M WEAK THIS WAY, AND SHOULD I EVER BE CAPTURED BY MY ENEMIES, THEY COULD BREAK ME IN A MINUTE, BY USING WATER TORTURE. I'D LIKELY BE ABLE TO SURVIVE THE WATER-BOARDING SIDE OF RELATED PUNISHMENTS. JUST NOT A DRIPPING, SIZZLING, FROTHING TAP OR WATERLINE. I LOVE OWNING OUR HOME, BUT GOSH, I REALLY HATE WHEN STUFF WEARS OUT, AND, IN TODAY'S CASE, SPRINGS A LEAK. I KNOW I'M KIND OF OBSESSED BY THE SOUNDS OF RUNNING WATER, BUT FOR GOOD REASON. WHEN YOU OWN A LOT OF PAPER RELATED HERITAGE, WATER IS ONLY A GOOD THING WHEN IN A SINK BASIN, BATHTUB, OR A DRINKING GLASS. WE ARE HUGE WATER CONSERVATIONISTS, AND EVEN LOSING A DROP BOTHERS ME, AS THIS PLANET IS RUNNING OUT OF ITS LIFE-SAVING LIQUID RESOURCES.
     THERE WAS SOME GOOD FORTUNE IN MISFORTUNE, THIS MORNING. SON ROBERT CAME UPSTAIRS, FROM THE LOWER LEVEL FAMILY ROOM, AND ASKED WHAT A WATER LEAK SOUNDED LIKE. A SNAKE? AS I AM MORE FEARFUL OF WATER LEAKS, THAN A BEAR BREAKING INTO THE OLD HOMESTEAD, I SHOT OUT OF MY CHAIR, FORGETTING THAT I EVEN HAD A WONKY HIP AND KNEE. WE ALL COME RUNNING WHEN THE WORD "DRIP" OR "LEAK" IS USED AROUND HOME, BECAUSE WE HAVE HAD SOME POIGNANT, DISTURBING EXAMPLES OF TOO MUCH WATER ON THE DOWNSTAIRS CARPET. SO AS SOON AS I ROUNDED THE CORNER, I COULD HEAR THE FAMILIAR SPRAYING SOUND OF A FAILING WATER PIPE. NO PROBLEM WHATSOEVER, FIGURING IT OUT. SUZANNE GOT THERE AHEAD OF ME, AND WITHIN TWO SECONDS, HAD PUT HER FINGER ON THE PIPE, OR FEEDER LINE, FOR THE HOT WATER TANK. THIS IS IN THE AREA WHERE A REPAIR HAD TO BE MADE THREE YEARS AGO, AND IT HAD SIMPLY LET GO ONCE AGAIN. THE FACT THAT THE HOLE WAS OF THE "PIN PRICK" VARIETY, DIDN'T MAKE ME FEEL MUCH BETTER. EVEN WITH THIS TINY, TINY HOLE, IT HAD ALLOWED ENOUGH WATER OUT, TO SPRAY ALL THE DRYWALL IN THE BACK, AND WAS WORKING ITS WAY INTO THE CARPET.
     THE LAST TIME WE GOT PIN-PRICKED, WE HAD ALMOST TWO INCHES OF WATER ON THE CARPET, AND THAT MADE IT, UNFORTUNATELY FOR US, THE THIRD WATER TANK INCIDENT. THIS WAS, AT NINE THIS MORNING, UNHAPPILY, THE FOURTH. SINCE THE LAST ONE, WHICH HAD BEEN SPRAYING WHILE WE WERE AT WORK, WE HAVE INSTALLED A WATER ALARM AT THE BASE OF THE TANK, SO THAT, IF WE'RE AT HOME, WE CAN GET A JUMP ON THE LEAKAGE. FORTUNATELY, IT HAPPENED WHEN WE WERE HOME THIS TIME, BECAUSE IT WAS SHOOTING OFF THE WALL, AND THERE WAS AN ELECTRICAL CONNECTION NEAR BY. LAST TIME IT SPROUTED A LEAK, IT TOOK ME A LOT OF TIME TO RESTORE THE DRYWALL THAT HAD BEEN DAMAGED BY THE MINOR FLOODING. WE LOST A LOT OF ITEMS DOWNSTAIRS, THAT BECAME SOGGY AS A RESULT.
     IT WOULD HAVE BEEN A DISASTER THIS TIME, BECAUSE ANDREW HAD HIS ANTIQUE LIONEL TRAIN SET, WITH FULL METAL TRACKING, WITHIN TEN FEET OF THE WATER-HEATER CLOSET. IT'S NOT THE BEST WAY TO START YOUR DAY, LET'S JUST SAY THAT....AND WITH IT BEING THE FAMILY DAY WEEKEND, WELL, YOU CAN FILL IN THE BLANKS. THERE ARE NO CHEAP LEAKS. UNLESS WE OPT FOR EMERGENCY SERVICE, WHICH WILL COST MUCH MORE, WE HAVE TO WAIT NOW UNTIL THE TUESDAY FOLLOWING "FAMILY DAY." BUT THIS TIME, WE DIDN'T HAVE TO BUY A WET VAC, TO SUCK UP THE WATER, I WOULD HAVE USED MUCH MORE FRUGALLY, IF THE PIPE HADN'T FAILED. DID I MENTION THAT MY LITTLE STORAGE CANOPY COLLAPSED THIS WEEK FROM THE WEIGHT OF SNOW. WE THOUGHT WE HAD IT CLEANED OFF PRETTY WELL, BUT OBVIOUSLY, IF I'M WRITING THIS, WE DID A CRAPPY JOB OF REMOVAL. NOW WE HAVE TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO SCOOP OUT THE CENTER ICE-BALL, AND SALVAGE THE METAL-WORKS, TO AT LEAST RIDE OUT THE REST OF THIS WINTER SEASON.....TO KEEP THE INSIDE ARTICLES SNUG AND DRY. I ALWAYS HAVE SUCH GREAT FEAR OF THESE KIND OF HOME OWNERSHIP ISSUES, HAPPENING IN THE WINTER SEASON, WHEN EVERYTHING IS BURDENED BY SNOW AND NOT-SO-EASY ACCESS. HEY, CALL IT THE GOOD, BAD AND UGLY OF HOME OWNERSHIP. I LOVE OUR HOME, BUT AS I AM SO MUCH WORSE, IN THE HANDYMAN DEPARTMENT, THAN "HOME IMPROVEMENT'S" TIM "THE TOOL MAN" TAYLOR, EVERY TIME WE HAVE TO CALL IN THE CAVALRY....IT'S LIKE SITTING IN A TAXI, WITH THE METER RUNNING; IT MAKES ME MUCH CLOSER TO NUTS THAN I WANT TO BE. WE ARE VERY EASY ON OUR HOUSE, AND HONESTLY, WE HAVE ONLY HAD TO CALL IN THE SUPPORT TEAM A FEW TIMES, IN TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. BUT, YOU KNOW, I CAN'T BLAME THE HOUSE FOR ANYTHING, BECAUSE IT HAS KEPT US WARM AND COZY FOR A LOT OF WINTERS, WITH NARY A PROBLEM. TODAY, HOWEVER, IF ANY ONE SHOULD ASK ME ABOUT THE JOYS OF HOME OWNERSHIP, I WILL POLITELY SAY, "NO COMMENT." I WILL GO HOME TONIGHT, AND SUZANNE WILL STRAP ME TO THE CHAIR, SO I WON'T BE TEMPTED TO MAKE THOSE REPAIRS ON MY OWN. I THINK I'VE FINALLY FIGURE OUT, THAT AS A PLUMBER, I MAKE A HELL OF A WRITER.

MY OWN "RECORD" OF NOT HAVING ANY - OR AT LEAST MANY - I WAS SIXTEEN BEFORE WE HAD A PHONOGRAPH

     I had a pretty fair childhood. My parents fought a lot, and my father drank more than he should have, but as far as being good parents, they got the job done. The biggest issue, was cash-on-hand, and as we lived pay cheque to pay cheque, we didn't have a lot of money for frills. I have to footnote this, that in later years, of my residency with my parents, they would save up all year (and do without a lot of things), in order to afford a trip to Florida each winter. These were frugal vacations, let me tell you, and we did not live in anything that could be described as either elegant, or extravagant. We always rented an efficiency cottage, on the beachfront at Daytona, and shopped for our dinners at the Pick 'N Save, across the road. Even as a kid, if we went out for dinner, while staying in Daytona Beach, let's just say, it was for the "early bird" special. My point here, is that my parents lived like Jesuits, and everything was of modest proportion throughout our apartment. I get a kick out of looking at some old photographs, showing how we lived in the late 1960's and 70's, in that third floor, two bedroom apartment...in a largely blue collar building. Everyone lived cheque to cheque, but boy oh boy, did they ever share what they had, with others, less fortunate. The trademark central, round coffee table, a couple of end tables with tacky lamps, the cheapest sofa and chair money could by, and a couple of arm chairs my mother had recovered....because, as she said, "You can't buy chairs like this any more." But it wasn't until my mid teens, that Merle, my doting mother, wrangled a good deal from Banks Brothers TV and Audio, in  Bracebridge, to buy a table top phonograph and radio. With it, Banks, who also sold records, threw in a sound-track from the theatrical production of "Carousel." I knew every word sung on that record. That happens when you only have one record, and a passion for music. To this point, I had listened to my little transistor radio, which was mostly for the away games, of the Toronto Maple Leafs. I had this little purple RCA unit, back in the 1960's, that for better reception, I'd place on the metal radiator-top beside my bed. I never remember the rad getting hot. I don't think it worked anyway. The radio seemed to work better this way, at least on some nights. I'd fall asleep listening to Foster Hewitt calling the games. I listened to boxing matches the same way. We only had one television channel back then, and it was CKVR in Barrie, which I think was a CBC affiliate station back then. For music, at night, I was able to pull-in W.L.S. which I believe now, was transmitted from Chicago.
     To this point, in the Currie household, we had a beat-up television, and a white plastic radio, that like so many apartments and houses in our town, sat up on the fridge, and played reasonably well until the power shift for signals, which happened in the early evening hours. Ed and Merle really only listened to the radio at breakfast, to get the latest sports scores, and national news. So when this spanking new phonograph, and radio unit arrived in our house, we were all glued to it, for weeks, listening to the FM Radio and the Carousel record. It can certainly be said we were behind our times, keeping up with the Jones....any of them. Then Merle got reckless and purchased another sound-track, because it was cheaper than other records in the shop. This time we got "Camelot," and yes, I soon could sing along with all the songs, word for word. This was pretty good, because I was terrible at memory work, at school, and it still plagues me. Especially remembering our postal code. So every now and again I will surprise Suzanne by singing, "I wonder what the king is doing tonight.....he's wishing he was in Scotland, fishing tonight," or something like that. I'm a little rusty. We wore the grooves right off the vinyl. I still didn't feel hard-done-by, because I didn't have what other kids my age had to play with. As long as I had enough registration money for hockey, each winter season, and there was an arena to hang-out in, all was good in the universe. And of course, as long as I had my table-top hockey game.
     Merle got turned-on by this welcome music in an otherwise silent household. Except of course, the sounds of my mates playing table-top hockey, five nights a week, and on Saturday night, during the intermissions of Hockey Night in Canada. So finding some faults with the table-top record player, Merle pulled out all the stops. She negotiated with the intensity of a mad dog, and wound up purchasing a floor model stereo cabinet, which were popular at the time. This was also an RCA unit, and it was a simple wooden box, with no frills. Merle liked it because of the show-wood exterior, which she polished with a liberal spraying of Pledge, every Saturday morning, whether it needed it or not. But here's the thing. I was not allowed to touch the phonograph without her supervision. She was the goddess of sound, and because Don Banks had explained its operational procedures to her, there was no one else, who could handle the onerous responsibilities of record-play. I understood this, really, because the poor soul had invested money we really couldn't afford, to bring a little musical cheer into the house. She was just protecting her investment, and I was, as she claimed over and over, "a bull in a china shop." Merle even carried this on with our lads, refusing access to either the television or stereo without supervision. She accused them with a laugh, of being "dial breakers." I'm not sure about how much the new stereo cost, but it was probably an investment of a hundred and fifty bucks. That would have made it the same as our monthly rent at the Weber Apartments, so it did take some courage to take the plunge. I think she may have agreed to a payment plan, but I'm not sure.
     God forbid, she would come home from work, and find fingerprints on the lid of the stereo cabinet. I often thought that this is why she Pledged so much.....leaving a residue, acting somewhat like, in practicality for her, what law enforcement officers use to fingerprint suspects. She could tell if it was Ed or I, getting into the cabinet. I did eventually learn the value of using a mitten or some other cloth product that would disguise my prints. I did use the stereo when she was at work, and any static heard on the unit, she blamed on my reckless care and control of a delicate instrument panel. Merle was very reactionary this way, but over time, and a thousand warnings, I did get to use the stereo legally, but always with the advisory, "If you break it, you will be buying me a new one." What happened, over time, was that it just wore out, and that was simply because of excessive use. It hadn't been a top of the line unit, and it did what we expected of it, for about a dozen years. It had something internal that made it snap and crackle, and it didn't have anything to do with the needle, which had been replaced once, or maybe twice.
     The arrival of the floor model stereo was a big moment in the Currie family legacy, and every Christmas after this, I got those K-Tel Records, that Bill Elliot sold, (as advertised on television) down at the five and dime store, on Manitoba Street.....one of my favorite all-time hang-outs. Merle found more discounted records, so we had a small collection of records by Herb Alpert, and cheaper than this, two copies of the "Band I Heard in Tijuana." She had a record by Al Martino, Dean Martin, four by Englebert Humperdinck, one by Johnny Cash, and several classical records; I remember one was "Ebb Tide," and another, Great Waltzes....or Blue Danube, and a few others, I can clearly visualize from the cabinet drawer, but can't recall the names. Merle had grown up in a house full of music, as her father was a contractor by day, a violinist in his spare time....and there was a dandy Victrola and floor radio....maybe a Majestic. Ed however wasn't too interested in music, and his choice, by a mile, was television viewing. In his opinion, if any money was to be invested, in home entertainment, it would be upgrading the wonky television in the livingroom. I had to agree with Ed, on this, because I really hated having to hold up the rabbit ears, trying to keep decent reception for the hockey game. He used to yell at me if I happened to fall asleep at my post, especially harsh if it was playoff time, and it was in sudden death overtime. He told me I had to get my priorities straight. His viewing pleasure was much more important than my general inconvenience. He made it seem as if I was actually on the National Hockey League payroll, keeping the transmission of Hockey Night in Canada, alive and well in our apartment. For the good of the nation, of course. The pay was a little thin. Some chips and dip. Maybe a Kraft pizza, from a kit that came in a box. What made those hockey nights, with poor reception, so crappy, is when Montreal and Toronto were playing a grudge match, and Montreal was winning. That was particularly difficult, because Ed was a diehard Montreal fan, and I was forever blue....as was my mother. So if Montreal pulled ahead in scoring, let's just say, the reception got a lot worse for my father.
     I never did acummulate a large collection of records, or vintage vinyl, as they're most commonly called today. I suppose it was a disadvantage in a lot of ways, but because I played a lot of sports in those days, I really wasn't at home as much as other kids my age....even Suzanne spent more time at home, and of course, had a much large record collection at the end of her teenage years. The only time I could boast having more than fifty records, was when someone moved out of an apartment, and left a small collection of worn albums....which contained a lot of Nazareth and Grand Funk. I got them in the first few months of lodging in my own apartment, and as money was just as tight as when I was growing up, they really filled the void. I had an old record player, that had only one working speaker, but it got me through a lot of lonely nights. It was a Realistic unite, and it became my best friend, after my girlfriend Gail dumped me for a student-friend.....and I wallowed in self-pity for the next year....swearing off women for the rest of my life....or until a neat gal came along. This was Suzanne, who not only brought good cheer into my life, but a lot of vinyl, and a decent phonograph. She accused me once, of only marrying her, for the record collection. Imagine that?
     Today, when Robert hauls in another major purchase of vintage records, I like to sit in the studio, watching him meticulously sort through, grading each vinyl disc, as to playability; and cleaning the covers that usually always have some sort of contamination, from minor to major. Occasionally, he will pull out a record that I immediately recognize, as having once belonged to either Merle or myself, and possibly, some Suzanne had as a teenager, that she sold off in our Bracebridge antique shop, back in the early 1990's. I find it all very interesting, and I'm so glad Robert and Andrew have followed this interest in music.....some of it, even from mom and pop's era.
     Coming up in future blogs, I'll let you know how our boys really got hooked on record buying and selling. You might be surprised. Part of it, comes from having parents who are antique hunter-gatherers. They grew up being heavily influenced by the antique trade, and even the life and work of a museum manager....and of course, sports hall of fame curator.....(me), and they made up my curatorial staff, helping to set-up many exhibits, for hockey legends, such as Irvin "Ace" Bailey, Roger Crozier, and Lisa Savijarvi, formerly of the Canadian Olympic Ski Team, (era of the Crazy Canucks) all formerly of Bracebridge. So they come by their interests in antiques and collectables, by intense, life-long exposure. We just didn't anticipate they'd have so much interest in music. But, as for music appreciation, Suzanne and I did have great enthusiasm in our youth....and, as you'll find out, in coming blogs.....it did come to them in material form, a few years into their respective teens.
     Thanks so much for joining me today, for this baby-boomer confessional. I just now felt a tap on my shoulder, sitting here, and it was just like the one Merle used to give me, when she suspected I'd been tampering with the stereo again. Maybe she's letting me know, in her own heavenly way, she has forgiven my trespasses.
     See you again soon.