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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Calgary
- Hits: 729
And this catches me up. By which I mean I apologize for the last few dozen blog posts, out of order, flashbacks, In Calgary, In Nelson, Here, There, Where? Who knows...?
But now, I'm back in Calgary, and if your attention span requires a more linear narrative flow you shouldn't have a problem. I'm here, for a couple of years at least, and most of the posts will be current, except for the hundreds of notebooks I've been excavating in the locker, and those - well, maybe I need a new category for those...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Calgary
- Hits: 793
It's a different market since I last looked for an apartment here. A real different market. I know, from Nelson I would log in on my tablet, I was looking, making sure, I wanted a soft landing for my arrival.
Following The Kootenay Rave, a trip to Victoria to visit my son, repair the LadyJeep, now, time, finally, to go back to Calgary. And so I pack up, those immediate things I'll need, which - as luck would have it, are not the immediate things I'll need, so many times I've loaded boxes into the locker, unloaded them, loaded them again, that they've become all shuffled, and I'm like the lousy magician that's lost track of the ace, flipping cards at random, but I don't know this yet, I'll find out...
Arrive in Calgary - Friday, November 11. Left on Thursday, spent a cold night in a cheap motel in Fort MacLeod, then Friday morning to Calgary, hopeful that I would find a place the same day. Why not? There are hundreds of places listed in Calgary to rent, thousands even, cheap, cheap, cheaper than they've been for a long time, all immediate occupancy, and I'm hopeful...
I start making my calls. No less than 35, using RentFaster, searching for immediate occupancy, leave messages, leave messages, leave messages...
1 Lady - receptionist, answers, Main Street Equity, viewing for an apartment in Marda Loop, make an appointment, 12:00, leave my contact details...
No one shows. No one, no call, no follow-up, nothing.
This is apartment hunting in Calgary.
Another man, he answers, begins yelling, the apartment, it's advertised as immediate occupancy, I got his phone number from the ad, but I didn't understand, I'd be lucky to get a viewing in a couple of weeks, I should go back and fill in the web-form, provide my details, maybe, maybe, if he feels like it, if I'm lucky, he'll give me a call in a week or two...
Clearly he doesn't understand "Immediate Occupancy". Or maybe I don't. One of us doesn't anyways.
This is apartment hunting in Calgary, the day is done, forage for some cheap Vietnamese, then drive up the backroads of Beisiker, pull off, tuck in to sleep. The LadyJeep, she's good for that, you can push the seat right back, fold it down, pull the sleeping bag up and you're set...wake every few hours, run the motor, warm up, then back to sleep...
Saturday...drive into town, the same pattern, repeat, nothing, Nada.
And I give up on Sunday, and Monday, because it's a long weekend, and no one will be showing apartments, but I start to get some call backs...
An appointment for Tuesday. Sunalta, an old hood, and I'm early, waiting, and he shows me the apartment, it could be good, hard to tell, it's filled with the other tenants shit, he's messy, blankets, chip bags, beer cans, everywhere, it only takes a moment and I ask the landlord (or agent) - "Immediate Occupancy?" and he says no, no, December the first, and I explain, "I need Immediate Occupancy...the ad said Immediate Occupancy" and it's back to the search...
The next day he calls me, wants to know if I'm still interested, and I remind him again..."Immediate Occupancy"...I'm beginning to think there isn't a landlord in Calgary that understands what that means...
I've moved, from the backroads of Beisiker into a cheap hotel in the NE, and I've become a regular trash-panda eating at Mucho Burrito, FatBurger, 7/11 Pizza's and hot-dogs, filling my LadyJeep with 95.9 Cents per litre gas again and again, ...
More missed connections, texts, appointments not kept, it's ongoing, but finally a viewing, and then a couple of days later I'm in, a large, vintage apartment similar to the one I once had in Sunalta when the kids were young, unpack the LadyJeep, boxes of creative projects, art supplies, clothes, lie out the sleeping bags on the floor and get settled.
I've got nothing. Not a chair, not a table, a lamp, merely boxes of writing, notebooks, clothes...
The apartment, it's great. Close in, I'm in the Bermuda Triangle of Circle K's, no more than a two-block walk and I have my pick of 3. Cafe's, Restaurants, there have to be a dozen, Beano will be the favorite. Post offices the same. I can walk almost anywhere, 2 blocks to Co-op or Safeway, my choice. If you have to be here, in Calgary, this is the place to be...
The apartment hunting, it took a lot longer than the car shopping, with better results (always time gives better results), but the process was the same. An ordeal. A pocket full of cash and no one to take it.
***
Now that I'm arrived I'm sick and settled, 2 weeks on the mend, feverish, hyper-lucidity, the sleeping in the car, in cheap hotels, the stress of ever-diminishing finances, it's all taken it's toll. Everyone I knew in Nelson had it, now it's my turn, it was merely waiting for me to get settled, and I'm a week sleeping on the floor before I can summon the energy to drive to the locker and rescue the bed (tied to the roof precariously with neckties and yarn, driving stick through rush-hour Calgary with one hand out the window, white-knuckles gripping a bedpost and a prayer on my lips).
Meanwhile, when well enough I'm off finding the basics to begin life in Calgary.
2 Tables - one a desk, one for the kitchen. 2 Chairs. A desk lamp, a lamp for the bedroom, a pot, a pan, 2 plates, bowls, coffee mugs. This is the beginning. From here everything else can be rescued from the locker, loveseat, armchairs, these I'll fill in after I find work, I don't need to find work, I need to find an income, already, unpacking the locker, I'm unpacking a ton of work that needs to be done, but that's a separate post...
And explore the city. Old Calgary, a new Calgary, new shops along 17th, Inglewood, countless boutiques and cafes and restaurants, Shisha bars and convenience stores, it would seem the city is booming. But look again, look closer, a good many of the storefronts are empty, or are tenanted by shops that can't be paying a great deal of rent, a superabundance of thrift shops, consignment shops, psychics, space lent, not rent, to keep the appearance of a city.
And pop into the alley for a cigarette, every time there's someone digging through the dumpster, it's an endless parade of the homeless, at night there will be people happening by with possessions newly acquired and already for sale, a step ladder, electronics, maybe even a couple Nepalese carpets?... There's a hobo mark somewhere, maybe on the dumpster on on a fencepost nearby, because I can't go outside without being touched for a cigarette...
Calgary, I never noticed it before, has gone to the dogs. Literally, Morning, Afternoon, Evening, everyone out walking Rover, Rex, Fido, a few years ago it was puppies, the "puppy boom" of Calgary, now they've all grown up and everywhere you see them in tow, dog-walkers ridiculously being dragged by a dozen of their charges, or watching them led trotting in packs through the neighborhood...
Sirens, nightly, blazing horns, arguments and revelries for the world to hear, this takes some getting used to after the quiet of the Hwy 3A...
***
A computer, now, shop on Kijiji, find a desktop tower in Airdrie, it's been months since I've blogged, typed, comfortably surfed the web. Drive to Airdrie, pick it up, now to attach the monitor, mine doesn't work, go buy a new monitor. Buy some old speakers, they don't work, buy some more, get the internet, and it's not working, 4 hours waiting, an hours troubleshooting, it's a bum cable, and this has been the pattern, every since I arrived, every tiny thing, is an ordeal, I'm rolling the ball uphill trying to get started, to rough in the basics of a life, and every night it's the celebration of trifling victories, tomorrow I'll do it again...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Calgary
- Hits: 740
The Free Ride
There is no free ride they say, but waiting, in Nelson, the driver looks at me - 7:00 PM, cold, dark, "I want to buy a ticket to Calgary" I say, chirpily, in mortal fear he'll decline, the depot's closed, they've cleaned it out, he checks me out: "Just get on" he tells me, I feel guilty for all the others that bought tickets - "I'll pay at the next town" I say and he gives me that look, like, "are you a fucking idiot?" type look and I sheepishly find a seat and don't bring it up again. The overnight trip, abandoned bus depots, disappearing, the memorial free ride, it's the end of an era, the end of Greyhound.
Jeeps, Jeeps, everywhere, Laredo's, Cherokees, old '97's, '96's, with fine paint jobs and the big boxy cabs, silver ones with immaculate paint, this trip to Calgary, get wheels so I can return to Calgary, it should be a breeze. Easy-Peasy. I've got money, not a lot, but enough, these cars, they're a dime a dozen, I've been looking now for months, making notes, know my market, my budget, I've got 2 days.
First thing, arrive, it's cold, freaking cold, 7:00 AM and I work my way from the bus depot to downtown, warm up in the mall like every other homeless bum, wait on the car-rental.
Make my calls. A surprising number of people list cars, I find, only to leave the province afterwards, they'll be around next month, next year, and a few weeks later when I'm in Calgary looking for an apartment I'll still be getting people returning my calls, confusing car salespeople for landlords, ...
Move down the list. Leave messages, send texts, into the void, into the void...One guy arranges to show me his jeep, thinks he can meet me at a gas station in the NE, waiting, waiting, he doesn't show, he had to borrow money and try and get it out of impound, it fell through...
And there's a pattern developing here.
The rental car, brand new, don't think I've ever been in a car that new, with the rear view back-up camera and eye tracking that tells me when ever I look at the screen to get my eyes back on the road, all this newness is confusing me, too many strange buttons and automations, nervous, driving it in the insanity of Calgary's rush hours, picking my nose before I notice the dashboard camera, 360 degrees, do they look at this stuff in the shop after? I wonder...
I'm driving end to end of the city, dire suburb to dire suburb, but seeing nothing, nothing at all, going down my list, making calls, more calls, but nothing is returned, and the day passes.
Dinner with the daughter, a cheap hotel, get onto my tablet and search, search, search, rebuild my list of vehicles for the 'morrow, panic is setting in.
The next day, bright and early, checked out at 8:00 AM, back towards the NE, a prospect, Jeep Cherokee, $1100, I'm in. And the lady selling, older, by which I mean my age, comes out in her pajamas, coffee in hand, the jeep, it looks OK, but the more I look at it the better it appears, but she tells me - now, that it needs gas, she's had it out for a couple of test drives, it's low, and we try and start it - again, and again, but it's not turning over.
I'm sucked into driving down to a gas station with her, buying a jerrycan, filling it with gas, this is bullshit but if it starts it could be worth it, I underestimated it in the light of the neighborhood, looking closer, inside, at the motor, it's not so bad, not for the price, but it's got to start. And it's not starting, merely the persistent "clicking" noise, the battery or the alternator, it's 9:00 already and I'm going crazy, the day is just beginning and this isn't an auspicious start...
She's upset, it's always started before, she feels guilty about imposing on me for the gas and the jerrycan, offering me wood roses she makes herself, maybe I could give them to a friend? Or why don't I just keep the coffee mug I'm drinking my coffee out of? And I've got to be flying, tell her, if she can get it started I'd be interested, at the price make it back to Nelson, check it into the mechanic, another grand and it'd be mighty fine, and I'm off...
Now to the South East, another jeep, but it's at a mechanics, he's got it on the hoist still, it won't be ready for another couple of days...
He's got other cars in the lot for sale, shiny cars, and I look at them, the last resort.
This, deep in the South East, the ice and snow have all melted from the streets, brown, a brown haze over the worst of all suburbs, ghettos, there's some guy with a bunch of used stereo equipment set up with a backpack at the service station, people coming around to look at his shit, I'm nervous leaving the rental unattended even for a few minutes, this neighborhood, it would be right at home in San Paulo, dodgy as fuck and I gotta get out of here...
The next car, a Land Rover, deep in the North East, and I'm having second thoughts - 170KM on it, nothing for a jeep but if you've read the reviews on the old Land Rover's that's kind of the end of life, I could afford the car, but not the maintenance, and so I cancel, now to the Northwest, we're out of jeeps, and I'm off to look at a Honda CRV...
...rusted, through and through, the paint is the only thing holding it together, 4 donuts for tires, all spares, no tread, and this for $2800? Is he on drugs? I don't even knock at the door, this is ridiculous, I'm running low on options now, pocket full of cash in a city filled with cars for sale and can I find one? Not a one...
I'm desperate, checking my phone, hoping for a returned call, somebody, please, PLEASE, and it's the girl with the jeep, she's texting me, "Um...this is kind of weird, but I was wondering if you're, you know, attached..." and this is it, the full on crazy, all I want is fucking wheels to get back to Nelson, I'm not boarding that bus, she's got it started, maybe I should come back? But it's the alternator, she just replaced it with another broken one, thought it would work...
Crazy, crazy, crazy, and I'm out of choices. Back to the mechanic in the SE, I'm the rollover, buy a RAV4 - shiny, like new inside, double my budget but I'm not walking back to Nelson, I hate myself every inch of the way, but night is falling, I've gotta get this done, spend the cash, hate myself, return the rental car, bus - deep back into the ghetto, and the lady-jeep is mine, 4 cylinders of AWD, curb-hopping at the super-market, and I console myself that it will do, for the moment, it will do, he can see it in my face, "It's very fuel efficient..." he tells me, and I think he's taking the piss, suck it up, swallow, breathe...
A long, long drive back to BC, over the pass, this too-precious and too-expensive car for me, I fucking hate it every inch of the way, and, it's been a couple months now, and my feelings haven't changed. When my finances repair themselves it'll be back to the jeep, an old jeep, something made for the roads I like to travel, this, just another bad step on a road I shouldn't be on...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Calgary
- Hits: 758
Because it's time, really, isn't it.
My car, LadyJeep, sitting in the back lot in the belt-line, nothing in it of value (I think) , a couple of rugs from the locker to cushion the furniture - bought in Nepal some 20 odd years ago, left in because of no value...
But - broken in to. Left unlocked, nothing to steal, but getting into the jeep I see my gloves on the passenger seat, and the idiot lights display doors ajar...
I've been fucked. Again. How many times? One hundred at least. And the carpets are gone, the jeep ransacked, and this is it , the fucking bullshit "Welcome to Calgary", this should be our new White Hat Awards, wherever you are, we aren't, "but we need guns to be there...".
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Calgary
- Hits: 916
Except, of course, that I've forgotten where that is.
Back to Calgary, a short visit, the daughter, bureaucracy, see a couple of friends. The Nephew, he's too busy to catch up, we catch up briefly on the phone, he's working 16 hours a day driving truck, he's talking about how much he misses the restaurant, he must be the only person on earth, yeah, the restaurant, it was the best job he ever had, will ever have, he had a few that were as good, better, in the restaurant business after the restaurant closed, would brag about how he did nothing all day but text on his phone, sadly they didn't last, go figure, now, 16 hours a day, hating his job, never a moment to check his phone...
I see other friends but I'm preoccupied, too much on my mind, money-money-money as always, but there are other things as well, people make time to see you but your company disappoints, I'm a long way from being my best self.
And I go to the locker, want to rescue a handful of interesting things, small things, but I can't ever get a 1/4 of the way back, that's how full it is, have to give up, I'm at risk for a crushing death beneath staggering towers of boxes whose contents I've long forgotten...
Finally, leaving Calgary, coming back to the Koots, to where? From where? I've lost all feelings of home, these are all just places...