Where Have I Been?

Busy, Ms J. Busy every day and evening. Late to bed. Early to rise. Man, I feel as though I'm worn down to the nub. Rehearsals for "Yesteryear" in Oakville on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Sunday afternoons too. And I've also agreed to act in Girl Alex's production, which she's had to change from the 26th of November to the 19th. I honestly don't know how she'll have it ready to present in less than three weeks. One of the star actors - Bob - isn't available on the new date, so Alex will have to get someone else, or change the play somehow to omit Bob's parts. It just seems like so much to do in such a short time.

But it's her problem, not mine. I often adopt other people's troubles and make them my own. I've been laying awake at night worrying about Alex and her plan to raise money to go to South America. I must let go of those cares. They belong to Girl Alex, and not to me. My problem continues to be in choosing the right contractor to replace my furnace.

I still don't have a firm plan to replace my old, thirsty furnace. The man from Sipco came over last week. His name was Bob. He was a foreigner. Slavic. Romanovski. Bob Romanovski. Or something like that. Anyway, he was here about three minutes. The man went into my cellar, took one look at the furnace and pronounced it a "total dee-sass-ter." He urged me to replace it as soon as possible and quoted me a price of $4900. He didn't even leave me a written estimate. Just a business card.

"Deese ees wary bad sitchation. Vee can geeve you new boiler and furnace. Even take old von out. Vee haf wary strong men for leefting haffy tings."

Um, no thanks. The door is this way. Thanks for calling. Moron.

On Tuesday, Brian came over. Brian works for another contractor. He was quite thorough. And he seemed honest enough. Left me a written estimate. $4000. plus tax. I liked Brian. But just for fun, I decided to get one more estimate.

Barry was here on Wednesday. He too, was thorough. Very thorough. He shone the beam of his flashlight on the white insulation on the pipes.

"Asbestos, eh?" he said and scratched his stubbly cheek. "Have to get rid of that. Maybe not all of it, but two or three feet from the boiler anyway."

He scribbled something on his clipboard and then poked around a bit more.

Upstairs afterward, we sat at the table and I waited while he wrote up an itemized estimate. He used a calculator and made a few amendments. Finally, he pushed the paper across the table to me and I quickly scanned down the list until I came to the total amount at the bottom right-hand corner.

Six thousand four hundred and ninety-five dollars and ninety-five cents.

I must tell you, Ms Journal. I nearly shit and slid in it!

"Wow!" I said. "That's a lot of money."

Barry took his glasses off, set them on the placemat, and folded his arms across his chest.

"Well, you got asbestos down there," he said. "It's expensive damn stuff to get rid of."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because we can't do it. We have to hire another company to do it. We're not licenced to remove asbestos. It's dangerous stuff, eh? Causes cancer. They used it everywhere years ago. It's good for insulating pipes. It was cheap. They didn't know it caused cancer."

"How much does it cost to have it removed?" I asked.

"About fifteen hundred bucks. Give or take. It's a shame too, because the guys would remove that in about an hour. Pretty good money, eh?"

I nodded my head.

"I'll give you the number of the company. Maybe you can do better if you deal with them directly. Maybe if you pay cash ... Anyway, give me a shout when you decide what you want to do."

Sixty-five hundred dollars! Holy crap, Ms J! That's a lot of doh-re-mi. But this guy seemed to be honest and knowledgeable. Asbestos is making things complicated.

So I've got three estimates: One guy was an idiot. One quoted me $4000. And the last guy was $6500. Big difference there, eh? $2500. I called the $4000 man again. Brian.

"What was your cost to remove the asbestos, Brian?" I asked. "I don't see it here on the estimate."

"Oh, we can't touch that," he said. "We're not licenced."

"How much would it cost to have it removed?" I asked.

"I dunno, exactly. Prob'ly somewhere between a thousand and two thousand dollars."

I was quiet for a minute while I mulled it over. Stupid asbestos. I sighed loudly.

"Yeah," Brian was saying on the other end, we can't legally remove it. But the homeowner can do whatever he wants. If there was no asbestos on those pipes when we came to do the furnace ..."

I understood his point.

"OK, bud," I said. "Thanks for your time. I'll let you know."


Here she is. Ol' Thirsty. Oil fired boiler. See the asbestos on the pipes? Those pipes run the length of the cellar.

$6500. or $4000.? Tough choice. I think I'll buy a face mask with a HEPA filter and do some surreptitious cellar surgery. Don't worry, Ms J. I'll be careful.

Asbestos I can.

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