The Oppenheimer Report - 12/31/06

“HALFWAY”

“It’s a rainy New Year’s Eve, and it’s so hard to believe
That the woman I used to hold so tight won’t be spending tonight with me
From my high rise I can see all the parties in the street
But the joy and celebration seem so far away from me

‘Cause I’m halfway through this bottle, halfway through my blues
Halfway to oblivion, but I’m nowhere near halfway over you.

Headlights on the highway heading downtown for the count
But I just want to fly away, take me out of this crowded town
And the rain outside is timely, because I’ve recognized that finally
When I lost you, and I’ve lost you, that was such a foolish move

Now I’m halfway through this bottle, halfway though my blues
Halfway to oblivion, but I’m nowhere near halfway over you

It’s a rainy New Year’s Eve, and it’s so hard to believe
That the woman I used to hold so tight won’t be spending tonight with me
In a moment this year will end, and you’re out with some other man
And it tears me in two to think about you giving your love to somebody new … so

Cho: repeat

I wrote that song back in the late nineties on a particularly blue New Year’s Eve. Shauna was not feeling well, and we decided to order some Chinese food and quietly usher in the New Year at home. Contrary to the tone of the song, it actually turned into quite a pleasant evening, but that moment in time inspired me to write one of my better blues songs. I don’t know why I used to feel impelled to celebrate on New Year’s Eve. I’ve had and been to some good New Year’s Eve parties, but as often as not, I would have been better off at home, with the woman I love, eating Chinese take-out and watching the world’s oldest living teenager announce the ball drop in Times Square. I’m not sure Dick Clark will be involved this year, but that’s probably how we’ll welcome in 2007.

There seem to have been a lot of notable casualties this past week so, before the birth of 2007, I will begin with the Grim Reaper. Dubbed “The Godfather of Soul” and the “The Hardest Working Man in Show Business,” R&B legend James Brown died Christmas Day at the age of 73. I never could understand much of what he sang, but it’s hard not to move when I hear his music. When I think of James Brown I am reminded of that Eddie Murphy “Hot Tub” spoof from Saturday Night Live. A Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, Brown had more than one brush with the law. I recently read somewhere that he got his start in the music business after a stint in reform school. It’s sad that the most common file photo shown on the news before he died was his mug shot, taken following an aggravated assault charge in South Carolina. I think he and Nick Nolte had the same mug shot photographer. Another notable obituary: Gerald Ford, dead at 93. Ford will probably best be remembered as the President by default who pardoned Nixon, and historians will likely debate that decision until the end of time. Often depicted as clumsy and not-that-bright when he served (Chevy Chase did my favorite impression of him on Saturday Night Live), Ford probably looks like a rocket scientist now, especially when compared to our current Commander-in-Chief. Other notable obituaries: Steve “The Crocodile Hunter” Irwin, Peter Boyle, Shelly Winters, and the annoying old man down the hall who, every time we rode in the elevator together, asked me if I’d found Jesus (to which I almost always politely replied that I wasn’t looking for him). Former Iraqi tyrant Saddam Hussein was executed last Friday night, shortly after his desperate Hail Mary appeal was denied to become a legal resident of California. The arguments will linger on about the legitimacy of Hussein’s trial, as will the debates in the international community about the U.S. influence on his public vilification and swift execution. In this day and age, it was strange to see anyone with a hangman’s noose around his neck, given the North American aversion to capital punishment. I’m glad Hussein is gone, as I’m sure are many Iraqi countrymen who suffered under his oppressive rule. Still, his death underscores the hypocrisy of U.S. foreign policy. We used to feed that monster.

Finally, I don’t know where to begin with my resolutions. I’ve had so many meltdowns in the past two months, I suppose one of my resolutions should be to remain calmer in crises. Patience is always good, and I could use a lot more of that, especially with my long-suffering wife. I’d like to learn more about Muslims, and especially about the differences among them. I hope to see more of my parents in the coming year and in general, to be a better son to them. I want to write at least five good songs in the upcoming year. I’d like us to see one Academy-nominated film before the awards are announced in 2007. In 2006, I was not consistent in writing this report weekly, and I want to get back to that schedule. Overall, I hope to be more understanding and less judgmental. And, as I do every year, I vow not to say nasty things about the French. Shauna, Jasper and I wish you a happy, healthy, safe New Year … and if you’re going to get schnockered, do it at home or take a cab. Until next year!

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Happy Holidays! - The OppenheimerReport - 12/24/06

The Night Before Christmas (In a Crumbling House)…

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not an appliance malfunctioned for me or my spouse
The sewer was augured, the fridge was replaced
The dishwasher’s new in its stainless steel case
The electrical panel is expanded and new,
Now we can turn on the microwave and not blow a fuse
The fifty year-old furnaces were torn out and scrapped
Now the new ones are efficient and they don’t blow out crap
The toilets that exploded have now been removed
The new ones are perfect with less water use
The carpets are up and the floors have been sanded
The bids are all in to have the bathroom expanded
The lights have been checked, and the faucets don’t leak
Indeed all of these problems are beyond our belief
And as I lay down to sleep having written this spoof
I’m just praying that Santa doesn’t screw up our roof

It always seems to me that this time of year is stressful for a lot of people. Indirectly, I’ve always picked up on the materialism and enforced gift-giving, and consequently, I have always rued the Christmas season. This is probably because I am so truthful and good that even a hint of insincerity sends me into a tailspin. Ironically, this year I haven’t had the time to notice the holiday mayhem. The other day, I suddenly realized that Christmas was upon us, when I was wandering around in Home Depot, for about the tenth time in a week, and there was very strange Christmas music playing over the P.A. I think I’ve been in a stupor of shocked disbelief for the past four weeks, expecting a new crisis to surface at any moment. The Christmas music was merely haunting background noise.

Though I’ve never been much of a fan of the holiday itself, I am a big fan of the music it has spawned over the years, particularly the comedic songs. Certainly, one of MY favorites – and I’m not even sure if I know the proper title – is “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer”. Speaking of laughter, I got a belly laugh out of some pictures in this week’s Saturday Toronto Star. On page B4 there are 9 photographs of Santa with children, and only three of the thirteen kids aren’t crying. For some reason, the photos reminded me of a very funny David Sedaris story, which I am sure I have mentioned in this report before, called “The Santaland Diaries”. In it Sedaris recounts his experiences as a hired elf at Macy’s in Manhattan during the Christmas season. It is one of the funniest things I have ever read. I realize that the real Santa is busy at the North Pole, and that these impersonators / helpers are perhaps not as jolly and comforting as the real deal, but come on folks. Is forced exposure to this parade of pseudo-Santas really good for your kids? Most of them don’t know this guy from an ax murderer. I suppose it is a holiday tradition to snap a photo of your toddler with Santa, crying hysterically, then to throw that snapshot back in the child’s face when he or she is old enough to find it embarrassing. I think it has something to do with a subliminal desire by the parents, after having sacrificed everything for their ever-demanding children, to mess with their self-esteem. Come on Mom and Dad, be nice … (the real) Santa remembers everything.

Anyhow, I hope to be back to my weekly missives soon … if the dust settles (we just had the hardwood floors sanded). May your holidays be peaceful and filled with friends and family. Jasper, Shauna, and I send you a collective hug from Toronto.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The OppenheimerReport - 12/15/06

This has been a particularly bizarre four weeks, and I’m not sure where to begin. We stopped off at the Taylors' to pick up some food on our way to the cottage, and we’ve been here ever since! Dr. Taylor just came home from the hospital today, almost four weeks after we began the lengthy and frustrating process of getting an Ontario doctor to properly diagnose his ailment. He is still far from 100 per cent but greatly relieved to be out of isolation.

Shauna and I have been living at the Taylor residence since Dr. Taylor went into the hospital, and it has become obvious to us that the Taylors have been overwhelmed for quite some time. They have not been properly maintaining their house, and the myriad of little problems and hassles began to pile up. Somehow, Shauna and I have been deluding ourselves into thinking that everything was O.K., and that her parents were taking care of their needs. Unfortunately, that has not been the case, and it has become painfully apparent that Mom Taylor, pre-occupied with the task of attending to the needs of her husband, has put off some desperately-needed repairs to their house. During the past three weeks since we moved in to this house, the sewer backed up, we discovered that there are serious plumbing problems which caused, among other things, damaging leaks in the finished basement, the alarm system has malfunctioned, more than once, and we realized that the house has had some very serious electrical problems.

It all started when we noticed some work had been left undone in their bathroom. An irresponsible plumber, hired to address the afore-mentioned leaks, had torn a big hole in their shower stall and then simply left the job unfinished. It became obvious, after consulting several other contractors, that there was a serious leak coming from somewhere in the floor. Perhaps it was a drain problem, or a water supply line, but whatever it was, it was a bigger job than originally anticipated. Then we noticed there were leaks coming from the kitchen sink, which had damaged most of the ceiling directly below in the basement. Then the sewer backed up, leaving the laundry room in the basement filled with raw sewage. This all happened within a week of our arrival. Several days later, the security alarm went off for no apparent reason, cutting off our phone line as we were getting an important update on Dr. Taylor’s progress in the hospital. Then the fridge died, and in the process of replacing that appliance, we came to the realization that the electrical service in this house was in need of some extensive repairs, which turned into a decision to replace the 25 year-old electrical panel down in the basement.

When the refrigerator died, we decided to replace the dishwasher as well. It hadn’t totally quit working yet but was in need of repair as the dry cycle was weak so we felt that the machine had reached the end of its useful life. The crowning blow occurred the other day, when we had the furnace guy come in to replace what we thought was a faulty thermostat. As it turned out, the problem was with the furnace. The repair man took one look at it and asked me somewhat astonished: “How old IS this thing?” I called the Taylors in the hospital to find out that they had lived in the house for 48+ years and had never replaced the two furnaces. Those furnaces were likely over 50 years old. Upon further investigation, the furnace guy looked at me and said, and I paraphrase: “Heat exchanger’s gone, I’m gonna have to red tag this one.”

“Excuse me, what does that mean?” I asked somewhat desperately.

“I have to shut this one down for good, by law, I cannot fire it up again …. too dangerous. I can’t stop YOU from doing it, but I’m telling you not to do it, for your own safety.” Actually, firing it back up was not an option, because I wouldn’t know how.

Keep in mind that by that time, Shauna and I had been coordinating additional health care for her father in the hospital, dealing with deadlines for the new log home, attending to Shauna’s business, shuttling Shauna’s mom to and from the hospital, dealing with the constellation of other house-related disasters, and averaging less than four hours of sleep per night. When this furnace repair man told me that we would now be without our heat source, I practically flipped out. Then came the sudden realization that, yes in fact this WAS happening and we would now need to scramble to get a new furnace (probably two, because the basement furnace was just as old) … all before the next cold snap rolled in. The next two hours featured a frantic series of phone calls to investigate our options. Those furnaces were not going to be easy to remove, because a room had been built around them AFTER they had been installed. Just before Christmas is not the best time to be shopping for this kind of work, but Shauna managed to convince the Taylors' furnace repair people to do the job quickly. Luckily, the owner of the company was a family friend, and he really helped us out when he found out what was going on in the Taylor family. Within four days, we had the furnace room wall partially knocked down, the old furnaces demolished and removed, and the new furnaces, new air cleaner, and new humidifier installed in the basement.

Just as we were breathing a sigh of relief, believing that we had fixed all the problems in the house, the two main toilets in the house malfunctioned.

Now that Dr. Taylor is finally home, I think Shauna and I might sleep for the entire weekend, confident that Dr. and Mrs. Taylor will not die of carbon monoxide poisoning or in an electrical fire. Next Tuesday, the electrician comes back to finish some of the elective rewiring work. On Wednesday, we’re moving furniture out of the way, having wall-to-wall carpets pulled up from 3 large areas, having the original hardwood floors sanded, stained, and varnished, and we will hopefully get started on the work to remodel the ensuite bathroom. I’m beginning to feel like a general contractor!

Happy Chanukah, Merry Christmas, and Seasons Greetings to one and all.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED