The Oppenheimer Report 3/29/10

Well, it’s that time of year again, when the crocuses begin to bloom (prematurely), the ice melts (causing floods), the animals begin to emerge from their winter sleep (to rummage through our garbage), the Toronto Maple Leafs once again find themselves in a “too-little-too-late” position to make the playoffs … and I look through the swap sheet for toys I cannot afford. There is a Canadian buy and sell service available known as Kijiji, and online I can browse the 1500 or more ATV’s and motorcycles available in my area with the click of a mouse. Akin to window shopping, I call this monitor shopping, and it is much cheaper than buying the weekly swap sheet for three bucks. I love to comparison shop, and while I am rather half-heartedly searching for a good bargain on a used ATV, I’m in no hurry. That said, there are some decent bargains out there. Last summer I had access to a 4x4 Suzuki ATV owned by one of the carpenters, who brought it to use on our job. Not only was it fun to play with, it was also quite handy. I used it several times to haul firewood down to the house from the top of our long driveway. As well, we used it once to grade the driveway. One time, when a tree fell across the driveway, I cut it in half with a chainsaw and was able to pull the two halves out of the way in no time. A lot of people up here own snowmobiles, but I’ve never really had much use for one of those. As toys go, ATVs are pretty good in the snow as well and I can use it all year round. I think they are even allowed on secondary roads if they are plated.



Last week, my cousin Louis Reich passed away in Buffalo, and family came in from all around for the funeral. My sister and brother-in-law drove in from New Canaan, Ct., cancelling plans to celebrate my brother-in-law’s 65th birthday. I felt bad for my brother-in-law - 65 is a big birthday - so, on Saturday I suggested we make a road trip to Niagara Falls to do a little male bonding. Ostensibly, our destination was Love Canal, but in fact these road trips are an excuse to get out of the house, cruise around, reminisce about relatively mundane events (like getting drunk), which have gradually been transformed into exciting adventures with the passage of time. Usually, we end up playing a little eight ball in a dive bar. Though I had been to Love Canal - they call it something different now, like Black Creek - last year with my pal Bob, it was still surprising to see that it has been almost entirely re-developed. Little low income houses have popped up everywhere and the area is full of residents. Gone are all the boarded, toxic carcasses of homes long since abandoned by the emigrating residents of Love Canal. Now, all that remains of the old development are a few bulldozed foundations and the odd remnant of construction debris. Even the bright yellow hazardous waste signs have been removed from the fence surrounding the adjacent containment site. Perhaps the area is once again safe for redevelopment, and I suppose they wouldn’t make the same mistake twice (hah!) but, not unlike an Indian burial ground, I think it might have been appropriate not to re-populate the area. The old school has been leveled, but we parked in the school parking lot and made the obligatory viewing of the actual canal. As we walked out onto the little bridge that spans the canal, we were both shocked to see a fluorescent green substance, not unlike anti-freeze, oozing out of a sewer pipe and directly into the canal water. I guess some things never change. Having sold industrial real estate in Western New York for more than two decades, I suspect that there are dozens of hazardous waste sites throughout Niagara and Erie Counties, many which are situated dangerously close to heavily populated areas.



Anyhow, I suppose a trip to Love Canal is no substitute for a special 65th birthday party, spent with a bunch of his old friends. Nevertheless, I’m glad Larry and I had the opportunity to spend a little time together. In keeping with his tendency to give cheap and inappropriate gifts, I bought him a grab bag from the local dollar store filled with things like a synthetic hair replacement, a pill container, a tin of potted ham (fifty-seven cents), and a book of Sudoku puzzles. Happy Birthday dude … live long and prosper! Today, Monday, I’m back up north to first night of Passover, and tonight I will attend a Seder supper with Shauna and her family. Passover is a Jewish holiday which lasts seven days and commemorates the freedom of the Jews from Egyptian slavery. It also marks a time when Jews all over the world eat unnatural foods like gefilte fish and matzo. I can‘t wait.



Louie, you were a good guy and we’ll all miss you.



Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3-22-10

We have spent a good part of the past week cleaning this log home, and we are far from done. Feeling a bit like Sisyphus pushing the rock uphill, I persist. You might ask me what took us so long, given that we have been living in the house for the better part of a year. In fact, until very recently, there was still construction work going on here, and it’s useless to do a real clean until all the saws are out of the house. For a long time, they were using chainsaws IN the house; thankfully, those days are over. Chainsaws are obnoxious enough outdoors, but when they are used with the confines of an enclosed home, they become infinitely more annoying. Frankly - and I think I speak for anybody who has built a house from the ground up - there are pros and cons to being present through the entire construction process. On the plus side, you are apprised of any and all complications, and privy to decisions that are made. Believe me, there are ALWAYS problems. On the down side, you are constantly bombarded with the ever-present invasiveness of a construction project. I distinctly remember watching as the hole was cut out of our living room wall to make room for the chimney flue. Watching the carpenter chain saw a four foot hole in the tallest log wall in our home, I cringed. What is it they say, you’ve got to break a few eggs to make an omelet? In fact, I am thankful to have had the privilege to watch this house being built, from beginning to end … and I have no desire to EVER do it again.




As I begin writing this week’s report, we have hired a company  that specializes in vacuuming out heating ducts, because there is an enormous amount of construction debris that ends up in those ducts. Not only is this bad for the furnaces, but it means that dust blows up through the vents every time the furnaces kick on. Of course, in our infinite wisdom and sense of organization, we waited through almost an entire heating season before doing this, thus allowing all that debris to be spread throughout the house. This duct vacuuming is more complicated than I thought it would be, and to properly remove all the sawdust, screws, etc. requires a serious vacuum as well as a pneumatic device to blow all the crap from the upstairs vents down to the basement. Luckily the weather has been remarkably mild, and we won’t freeze because of windows that must left open to allow for air hoses to be passed through from the van outside. Hopefully, when this procedure is completed, we won’t have so much dust accumulating in the house. We’ll see.



In the soft news department, “Outlaw” biker star Jesse James apparently cheated on America’s sweetheart and recent Oscar winner Sandra Bullock. Is nothing sacred … I thought those two were so happy together? Tiger Woods has completed his obligatory three months of public contrition and has now announced he will return to the PGA tour. Record-busting swindler-turned-convict, Bernie Madoff-with-the-money, was reportedly beaten up in prison a few months ago, to almost everyone’s approval. The irony of his assault is that it will probably necessitate some kind of special prison treatment, and this will likely cost John Q. Public even more money than this putz has already squandered. A moment of righteous indignation … sometimes, just sometimes, I long for the good old days when blatantly guilty wrongdoers were boiled in oil. Talk about your ratings booster … give me a thirty-second spot on that T.V. coverage! When I think back a few centuries to all those innocent women burned at the stake in Salem, and here’s Bernie complaining because his chipped beef is cold. I suppose a slow death in prison is about as much justice as we can expect, after all this IS a civilized society, right? Hmph. President Obama’s big health care initiative has come down to the final vote, and as of last Friday there were only ten votes needed to kill his bill, with thirty-five votes still undecided. While I applaud the noble intentions of universal health care, I wonder if any emphasis is being given to enforcing pro-active, preventative medicine. If we are going to make health care coverage mandatory, is it not also fair to enforce a “Twinkie/Marlboro Tax” on all the apathetic slobs who so willingly disregard their own health to the considerable expense of their recently appointed “comrades” … and yes, I’m cynical. We just built a house.



Go Leafs.



Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3-14-10

I was down in Toronto last week for a few days to take care of some things, and lo and behold, I discovered it was Canadian Music Week in the city. Though I am a music lover and have lived in Toronto for over fifteen years, I have never before attended this event. Throughout the week, about 700 bands are scheduled to play at various venues throughout the city, and being the adventuresome soul that I am, I decided to check a few of the acts. I would have really enjoyed catching some of the songwriting forums held at the Fairmont Royal York, but I was too late for that. Thursday night, I rode my bicycle downtown and hit two venues: The Horseshoe Tavern on Queen Street, and afterwards the famous El Macambo on Spadina. The bands were generally forgettable, but I found the spectators very interesting. As well, I fulfilled a longtime desire to see the inside of the legendary El Macambo. The older I get, the less inclined I am to do something out of the norm, and this was my one feeble attempt to revive my severely atrophied sense of spontaneity. Riding my bike at night, wearing dark clothing was a nice touch. I’m sure that there will be a lot of good bands featured during the week, but I don’t think Thursday night at the Horseshoe was the place to be. I doesn’t matter because, in fifteen years, when I’m sipping a cocktail of Metamucil and orange juice, I will wildly exaggerate the sense of adventure generated by this crazy foray into the lurid underground of Toronto’s vibrant club scene. Hey dude, THE STONES played the El Macambo, once, a long time ago. And I was there…well not exactly when the Stones were there, but there nonetheless. By the time I made it to the El Macambo, a little altered and having already seen three bands at the Horseshoe, I could have seen a punk Mariachi band and I wouldn’t have known. This music watching is exhausting. Next year, I will approach this event with a little more discrimination, and perhaps even see a band I choose to see.

Back up in Katrine for the weekend, I decided to continue my exploration of the live music scene by attending the world famous Country Jamboree at the Katrine community centre on Saturday afternoon. This is my second big event at this community centre, and I wasn’t disappointed. Loosely translated, they served beer, and it was cheap. Country music is not my favorite genre, but I embrace all music with open arms. O.K., punk, rap, Indonesian gamelon music, opera, and a few others, not so much. When I arrived, the parking lot was packed, and when I got inside, I found out why. There was dancing, there was booze, there were complimentary sandwiches and cupcakes; clearly, this was a jamboree. And I have to say, as colorful as was the crowd in Toronto, they paled by comparison to this group. These folks knew how to party … probably due to the fact that they spend a good part of their winters blowing, plowing, and generally dealing with copious amounts of snow. They were young and old, hippy longhairs and redneck codgers. One old timer, as she passed me bouncing off the dance floor like a pogo stick, winked at me and earnestly confided “we all go a little crazy on Saturdays!” Work it grandma. The last band (there were four altogether) was really quite good. I was a little surprised, although I have always maintained that some of the best live music happens when I least expect it.



Is there any good reason why they don’t make daylight savings time occur to coincide with the Spring equinox? It just seems logical. I’m getting Spring fever big time, which might explain why I attended the Katrine jamboree, and we have had a substantial thaw that removed most of the snow from our property. The ice huts have been removed from the lake, the weather has been mild and, as of this weekend, the days will seem longer. Though it has been, relatively speaking, a mild winter, I’m ready for it to be over. At present our property is a big mud pit, because topsoil was brought in just before it snowed. We put down grass seed before the snow, but won’t know for a month or two if it will begin to grow. Landscaping remains the one big project we must complete before this ongoing work in progress is completed … that and the 438 glitches that need to be addressed. Another day.



Perhaps I can play at the next gig at the community center. I could be adored by a bevy of nonagenarian groupies. I’d love to see their expressions when I play my country classic “How Come it Hurts When I Pee?!” Seriously, I think a lot of the people up here could identify with that song.





Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3/9/10

I begin my report today with a rant about transformers. Those are the little, or not so little black boxes attached to many of the power supplies, which we get with just about every electrical appliance we purchase these days. I have about twenty of them lying about our house, and I have no idea which one goes with what device. Some are likely for devices which I have long since discarded. Whenever I do need one it always seems to be the wrong voltage. I try to label them, but because most of them are black, I have to tape a label to them, and tape comes off. A couple of years before he died, I bought Dad one of those digital picture frames, which gives the viewer a slide show of selected photographs, and he almost immediately misplaced the power supply. Of course it required some bizarre fractional voltage, not readily available in most stores. I finally found one that would work - it was one of those multiple voltage jobs - and I plugged it into the frame. It worked, and everything was fine until someone fooled with it and changed the voltage setting, thereby blowing out the screen on the picture frame. At least that’s what I think happened. Dad never really liked the thing anyhow, but I couldn’t return the frame, because now I’d broken it due to my own carelessness. It seems as if I have a lot of little black cords with USB like ends on them that connect to cameras, GPS devices, computers, television sets, etc. Again, I’ve forgotten what they all do, and each one has a different end on it, completely incompatible with any device other than the one for which it was intended. Actually, that is a problem with a lot of the hi tech stuff today. Once again, it’s technology-1, Jamie - 0. Life has simply become too complicated for me, and the more fogey-ized I become, the more I long for the days when a television set did not come with a set of instructions the size of a phone book.




Yes, I watched the Oscars last night, and was surprised to see that James Cameron and his obscenely expensive (and profitable) film “Avatar” did not run away with the show. In fact, what appear to be good stories did, and kudos to the Academy for recognizing them and the writers and film makers who tell them. Out of character for me, I saw a first run movie last week while I was in Toronto. I haven’t been to a current movie screening in perhaps six years, but with my last five hundred dollar purchase at Shoppers Humungous Drug Warehouse, I was given two, count em, two, complementary tickets to any movie showing at a Cineplex theatre, and there just happens to be one of those in our apartment building. Because the comp tickets expire in a few months, I decided I should see something soon and I caught “Crazy Heart” with Jeff Bridges. I can see why he won the award for best male actor; he was very good. As much as the next human rutabaga, I like the brainless entertainment provided by a movie reliant on dazzling special effects, but it was also refreshing to see a movie that simply tells a good story well. I guess I also related to the subject matter: it’s about a washed up songwriter. Of course, I’d have had to have achieved some success as a songwriter to become washed up, but that’s beside the point. Brief aside: in his acceptance speech, Bridges spoke of his acting family and specifically about his father Lloyd. He talked about being coached by his dad to do an episode of the T.V. program “Sea Hunt” when he was a boy. I am old enough to remember “Sea Hunt” and it was pretty silly show, so naturally I watched it every week. In fact, I’d probably watch it if it were still on. In almost every episode, Lloyd Bridges would end up in an underwater struggle with some bad guy who would inevitably try to kill him by disabling the oxygen supply on his scuba tank. Those were the old tanks with two hoses coming out of the breathing regulator. What was funny was that the bad guys always cut the exhaust hose, which causes a lot of bubbles but won’t stop the diver from breathing. Back in the Sixties, you could get away with little tricks like that. Anyhow, I’m glad Jeff Bridges won for his performance as Bad Blake. As I said earlier, I can’t remember the last time I saw an Oscar winning performance at the time it came out in the movie theatres. The other big winner at this year’s Academy Awards was “The Hurt Locker”. I’ll probably get around to seeing that one in two or three years.

I also want to see “Precious” and “District 9”.



What else. The Leafs still suck big time, although they did squeak out a win against their dreaded rivals Ottawa last week. Final note for anyone who might have been trying to “Face” or “Space” me on the internet, or to send me a photo by email. We have until very recently been on dial-up here at Jasper Bark Lodge. It was, to say the least, unacceptable. We just got a Bell MiFi unit, which is essentially “high speed” internet service through a cell phone, and that has presented us with a whole new set of technological problems … but at least it’s wireless! Once again I embrace the Great Satan of technology. Depending on which way the wind blows, and whether or not the gods of good cell reception are smiling down on Katrine at any given moment, we do or do not have faster internet service. Be careful everyone, I think I’m losing it; I might soon be channeling with fellow technology hater Ted Kaczynski.
 
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Oppenheimer Report 3/1/10

As I begin writing this week’s report, the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics are winding down, and the last big event, the U.S./ Canada men’s hockey game for the gold medal, is about to begin. Of course, there is a rivalry between me, the American, and Shauna, the Canadian. Just to bug her, I am wearing the only article of clothing I have here which advertises my American roots: my 2009 Western New York Poker Run tee shirt. I’ve enjoyed this winter Olympics, as I have enjoyed all the past ones, and there were a lot of memorable moments, a lot of upsets, and a lot of excitement. I’ll always remember skier Alex Bilodeau hugging his disabled brother after he won Canada’s first gold medal ever in a home-sponsored winter Olympics. As it turned out, Canada set a record for the most gold medals won by one country, I believe in the history of the Olympic Games. By the way, can anybody tell me why each of the medal-winning athletes received what looked like a giant head of spoiled broccoli? Will there be cauliflower at the 2014 Olympics in Russia? I’ll remember watching Canadian figure skater Joannie Rochette skate her short program, shortly after learning that her mom had died suddenly of a heart attack. She went on to win a bronze medal. I think that takes courage! I am a little embarrassed to admit that I got (somewhat) excited about the Norway vs. Canada curling finals (o.k., maybe not so much), and am happy that Canada won gold in that event. Hockey is a little different, especially considering that Buffalo Sabres goalie Ryan Miller is in the U.S. goal. I’ll be happy for either team when they win; I just want to see a good, hard fought game, but I WILL be rooting for the United States.




To stave off the excruciating ennui of winter, last year I attended the Kearney Dogsled Races up here in the tundra. This year, in keeping with my desperate need to find entertainment during this grueling final stretch of winter, I attended the Katrine Winter Karnival. If winter is my enemy, I say embrace it! Stand back Vancouver, because Katrine, Ontario was the place to be last Saturday. I was not early enough to attend the parade; yes, in a town of perhaps sixty people, they had a parade, with floats (o.k., two, maybe three floats) and everything. There were, of course, no spectators; it’s a running gag that everyone who comes to the parade is in it. I DID make it to the community center, a little late for the frozen turkey toss, but in time for the very competitive, much-anticipated, and ever- popular bed races (see photo above)). This Karnival had everything: balloons, weiners, beer (huge plus), a small mound of snow for the kids to slide down, a bonfire (more of a small camp fire), a hammer-the-nail-into-the-log contest, horse drawn hayrides using real draft horses, and of course, the all-day party in the Katrine Community Center. The live entertainment was memorable, though after a beer or two it thankfully became a little less so. I didn’t stay for the $12 roast beef dinner, or for the big dance, although I did make my small contribution to the event. I am, after all, a member of this community now. As I was leaving, I caught a little of the bed racing competition. That alone was worth the price of admission. The only thing missing was the comprehensive CTV coverage.





As I finish this report, “golden boy” Sydney Crosby has just beaten my man Ryan Miller in overtime to win (3-2) the gold medal for the Canadian Men’s hockey team. It was a VERY close game, and the U.S. looked like they might pull it off when they came from behind with seconds left to go in regulation time. Clearly the game could have gone either way, and I admit I’m a little disappointed that the U.S. team didn’t win. They were not really favored to do well this year, and they far exceeded most people’s expectations. Still, Canada winning “Canada’s game” is I suppose a fitting way to end this winter Olympics, so good for you Canada. Right on, eh?!



I think the Town of Katrine should be considered for a future Winter Olympics venue. At the very least, I feel that bed racing should become a certified winter event. I also think they should include some kind of snowmobile competition. For instance, there is an event, ever popular up here in the Great White North, called “Puddle Jumping”. Basically, this involves hydroplaning over open water on a snowmobile at high speeds. Low speed is not an option due to the stubborn laws of gravity. There are a whole slew of crazy things people do up here on snowmobiles, mostly I think alcohol-inspired . If they ever give out medals for “most intoxicated snowmobiler,” I think someone in Katrine or the surrounding area might be a contender. Put those guys on a Wheaties box, why dontcha! Eh?!



Seriously though, way to go Canada. Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED