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The Thorncliffe Antique Show

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Miscellany

Published: 04 October 2010

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Saturday, an early morning searching for garage sales, a few but none of merit. And I think to round the day off with a few thrift shops when I remember that there's an antique show at the Thorncliffe Community Hall on Center Street, and so I make my way there.

Less discouraging than the garage sales, and sometimes you have to elevate yourself a bit above the typical rubbish and have a look at some real treasures. The antique fair, small compared to others that come through town, 2 small rooms, maybe 50 or 60 dealers, many of whom I know from the flea markets. For the flea market vendors this is it, a chance to show off their rare and best treasures, but I don't really want to visit with them, I see them every other Sunday. 

Of the 60 or so stalls there half are easily rubbish. The same tat you'd find at the flea market, a few stalls it's even worse, simply old people clearing out their rubbish and confused about what an "Antique" is. 

There are, however, a few worthwhile stalls and vendors I don't see so often. One has a collection of North American Artifacts, stone mauls, arrowheads, another has specialized in Victorian jewelry, some old brooches and pendants with the woven hair of the dead inside, interesting rings, some bronze bookends (and I need bookends), Millet's "The Gleaners" cast in bronze, $30.00, a more appealing art nouveau set with a naked woman hoisting the eternal flame, $150.00, good but not that good, books, but none worth owning, I make three passes over each of the rooms, find a couple of good watches, I treat myself (it's been years since I've bought a decent watch) and consider it an early retirement gift.

And that's it. Reasonable prices, modest selection, they could have been a little more picky about the dealers they invited, but if I've bought a watch it can't be that bad...

The Dentist

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: People

Published: 29 September 2010

Hits: 1891

I hate dentists.

Not my dentist in particular, he's actually a pretty good guy, but in principle, somehow they remind me of the tens of thousands of dollars that should be sunk into my mouth to fix things up, they remind me I need to quit smoking, they in short are a reflection of my worst self.

And I've been seeing a lot of them, him lately. There's a lot to be done and I want it done before I'm unemployed.

I go in for the cleanings, the x-rays, then there are the inevitable extractions. This is misery, I know it, but I've psychologically prepared myself, numbed myself, suspended all thoughts until this is done.

In the chair and he holds up a long needle. 

"We call this 'the wand'" he tells me.

"Oh! Dumbledore!" I say, muffled because my mouth is already partially numb and wide open.

"Merlin" he corrects me.

"And we're going to have to use an elevator. But it's not the kind of elevator that goes up and down...." he says, he's using the same patter he'd use with a 5 year old child. His teeth, they are perfect, too perfect. He's big into the cosmetic dentistry thing, but he's taken it too far on his own mouth, perfectly regular, brilliant white, they glint and shine a testament to his skill. Unnatural, he should know better. Mine are the opposite, light bends and is lost in the crooked maze that is my mouth, the model for Theseus and the Minotaur....

And he holds up a hammer and chisel. This is the elevator; stainless steel, doubtless manufactured and overcharged by some medical lab, but it's a hammer and chisel nonetheless, and how they came up with the term "the elevator" for the moment is beyond me. I know why, because you can't tell patients that you'll attack them with this, they'll resist, maybe even retaliate...And, exactly what you'd expect, he takes the hammer and chisel and begins to chop away, tapping, banging, hammering in my mouth. It's primitive and I'm thinking that what they really need is a barbers post, none of these fancy cosmetic dentistry ads, just a twisting red candy cane in front of the store, leeches, bleeding, haircuts, this is the kind of dentist I need to see, I'm seeing...

While he's hacking away he's talking to his assistant, about vacations past and upcoming (he's a dentist, he's on vacation every other week), about hunting trips and minor personal issues, I'm not free to comment, it's not my conversation and there's that minor problem of having a hammer and chisel in my mouth.

Eventually they're done, I'm done, free to recover for a few months before I have to go through all this again. 

I hate dentists. 

Under Construction

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Written by: Rod Boyle

Category: Rants

Published: 27 September 2010

Hits: 2331

It's been a week with no mail. 

The front sidewalk, it's under construction and the workers have peeled away the stairs from the porch, poured the new sidewalk and have spent the past few days sitting about and watching the concrete dry. I've asked them what's become of the mail, they don't know, go back to watching the concrete dry.

Now there's nothing I need, well, there's a few Blue Cross cheques that I'm expecting, there's the bills and fliers and other curiosities that arrive, and so there's no real urgency but I call Canada Post because I'd like to pick it up nonetheless. Phone: 1-800-267-1177. 10 minutes on hold. When finally I speak to someone they have no idea what's being done with my mail either, but they'll initiate a trace and it will take a week or two, and so I tell them not to bother. The stairs should be done by then.

Read more: Under Construction