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What's a Dog To Do?Ah, Canada. What a great country, with endless resources of fresh water brought to us from the bowels of the earth and the melting snows of the Canadian Shield. Here in Toronto, we live on the north shore of Lake Ontario, just 100 miles from the greatest source of hydro-electrical power in the whole world, Niagara Falls. What happens when we have a major power failure? What happens if the sewers in our neighbourhood are flushed with large pumps, large ELECTRICAL pumps that, if not functioning, allow every source of flowing sewer water including the bowels-of-the-earth type stuff to come gushing up through the floor of the basement like some bad Toxic Avenger movie? On Thursday August 14, at 4:11 pm, there is a massive power failure from Detroit to New York in the USA, and from Windsor to Montreal in Canada. Nash had planned to prepare for the gig this night, but with no power and a shortage of candle-powered electric violins, there would be no testing of equipment, no rehearsal. The power at the house returns Friday morning around 8 AM but much of Toronto is still in the dark. Most office computers have crashed and businesses stay closed in a state of emergency. Civilians and industry are asked to limit hydro consumption. Nash calls the Art Gallery of Hamilton regarding the gig on Saturday. With questionable availability of electricity, it is decided to postpone the show to a later date. At noon on Friday, Nash meets a friend and is informed of serious flooding in the neighbourhood. There are floods in everyone's basements due to backed-up sewer pumps! Nash goes down to his secret vault only to discover that it has been swamped with three feet (90 cm) of water and sewage, destroying everything including clothing, books, CDs, a Tascam Dat Machine, a Kustom guitar amp, power tools, stainless steel counters, bunsen burners, beakers full of dry ice and coloured liquids, electrodes, an extra-large operating platform with six-inch leather straps, a brand-new furnace used for heating the house and discreetly removing experimental evidence, the hot water heater, and a physically-challenged lab assistant named 'Bub'. Due to the power failure, the insurance company is not at work for three days and when they get back to it on Monday, half their computers don't work, and of course, Nash's file is unavailable. A female insurance assessor finally arrives at noon on Tuesday, (four days late), takes photos of the soggy basement, goes into the dry heaves, and declares 'This is quite the disaster'. Nash, who is by now used to the ripe smell of sewage and decay, chuckles at her discomfort and hopes it will result in a quick clean-up job courtesy of the insurance company. No such luck. The insurance company is reluctant to remove all the debris because some of it could be 'toxic'! No shit! Is that before the accident or after? 'So, what do I do with this mess?' 'That's up to you. You could leave it there and die of methane poison or Black Rot Sewage Disease or you could remove it at your expense'. Nash has a better idea. The basement is cleaned out on Wednesday but Nash keeps some pieces of contaminated drywall. In no time a new lab is up and running and Nash is nurturing the Black Rot Sewage culture under controlled conditions right here in our basement! When the panels of drywall are sufficiently infested, he's going to carefully remove them and install them in the underground parking lot of the insurance company. Let's hope they have better insurance from some other company. The next night, Thursday August 21, there is a severe electrical storm the likes of which we haven't had in my 7 years of howling on this planet. There is serious rain, thunder, and lightning bolts all around the house for over two hours. Every blast lights up the black sky like a strobe light and shakes the house to its foundation. I strap on my 9/11 Emergency Doggie Helmet and furiously start digging a bunker in the basement. Damn the spores! In the depths of all this mayhem I hear 'Bub', lying in a dark corner of the basement, dried-up sludge distorting his face as he groans, 'More juice! More juice!' The electrical storm blows out the modem to Nash's computer. Big deal! It blows the modem outta me too! It also blows out the power to Nash's recording studio. Mysteriously, no other power in the house has been affected and all of Nash's digital effects are flashing '42', '42', '42'!!! Perhaps this is all the fault of Nash's garden. Maybe the 'feng-shui' isn't properly aligned or something like that. Looks like I'll have to dig up the 'cemetery' again. What's a dog to do? P.S. The performance of 'Nosferatu' will happen in Hamilton October 25. Digger |
