On Thursday I had
an appointment for noon with my dentist, so I headed out at 11:30. This was the
first non-test-drive ride on my newly built bike. My arms actually felt a
little bit tired from holding them so high to reach the handlebars. I had just
climbed Lansdowne and I was just about to go into the left turn to go west on
Dundas when suddenly my seat dropped all the way to the frame. I pulled over to
the right and then walked my velo to the light, crossed to the south west side,
then to the northwest, got back on and awkwardly pedaled west. With the lowered
seat my knees were bending much more than they should and it felt like I was
riding a tricycle, but I had an appointment so there wasn’t much more I could
do but pedal there. I thought that afterwards perhaps I could find a cycle shop
where I could borrow a wrench to adjust the seat.
But then it occurred to me that I would be passing by Mojo Cycles on my
way to Smile City. I had never been inside the Dundas West Mojo shop since I’d
always gotten my repairs done by Agostino at the Mojo shop on Queen Street up
until a couple of years ago and I hadn’t seen Joe, the owner of the Dundas Mojo
since before his father died.
I found Joe and his little boy, who had been a baby the last time I’d
seen him, sitting together and looking at a story book. I shook hands with Joe
and we exchanged quick pleasantries at first but I needed to get to my
appointment, so I asked if I could borrow a wrench. I thought I needed a 12 but
that didn’t fit so Joe gave me a 14. He took one look at my seat post though
and told me that it was the wrong size. He said it was a 26.2 and what I needed
was a 26.4 but that I might have to spread open the top of the seat tube with a
screwdriver first. Meanwhile, Joe cut a little strip from a grape soda can to
slip inside the rim of the seat tube to fill up the space temporarily.
I raised the seat by eye this time and tightened it, while at the same
time telling Joe that I had been sorry to hear about his dad’ dying because I’d
considered him a friend. Joe asked if I still worked at OCADU and I remembered
how before Joe had opened the companion shop, Agostino used to tease him that
he should go and pose nude for art classes like me. We shook hands again and I
continued on to my appointment.
I was still early when I got to Smile City and after I used the
washroom, Dr. He was waiting for me to follow him to a treatment room. He asked
what was wrong and I told him that my denture was getting loose again. I
explained that when I’m singing my upper lip sometimes pushes down on the pink
plastic part that sticks out above my teeth. I demonstrated by opening my mouth
wide and then closing it a few times to simulate singing and the denture
dropped out. He told me that mine is a unique case and that the false tooth
would of course come out if that’s the way I sing. I declared then that the
denture was useless to me then if it couldn’t help me sing. He asked me to sit
down in the chair. He looked at my denture and then at the gap. He commented
again that my gap would be particularly compatible with an implant. I asked him
where the free implants were and he answered that he didn’t think there were
any free implants.
Finally he decided that he would fit me for another, more elastic
denture, but if that didn’t work there would be nothing more that he could do.
He called in Hilberto to take the mould and he did it much more efficiently and
smoothly than any of the other assistants that have done it. Plus he very
gently and obviously strongly held my head up with one hand during the setting
process, making it much more comfortable.
But when Dr. He saw the mould he said Hilberto would have to do another
for top and bottom because the denture would be for two teeth. That puzzled me
because I couldn’t figure how or why he was going to try to fit two teeth in my
gap. Hilberto explained that the new denture would be to replace not only my
missing incisor as does the one I have, but also a bicuspid three teeth to the
right that has been missing for many years and which is the only other visible
gap in the corner of my famously sunny smile. He informed me that a denture for
two teeth should stay in more securely than a single false tooth. If it works
then it will prove once again that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, since I
wouldn’t have ended up with two gaps filled if I hadn’t come in to complain.
Hilberto took the moulds and I griped that it was like biting into wax.
He clued me in that the compound was actually made from seaweed.
I remembered from when he was the assistant to my previous dentist, Dr.
Max, who now has his own practice. I recalled that Hilberto had been a
practicing dentist in Venezuela and that he was in the process of working
towards earning his DDS for Canada. I wondered how he was coming along and he
shared that he still had two more exams to go but that he has no time to study
because of work. I think he’ll make a very good dentist because he is
knowledgeable and gentle and he would be popular in that neighbourhood of
Dundas and Bloor because there seem to be a lot of Latinos in the area.
I was told that the denture would be ready in three weeks, which would
work out well for me since my gig will be on June 3rd which means I
should have the fake teeth before then.
I had planned on stopping at No Frills on the way home, but since the
sinking seat problem had arisen, I decided to ride straight to Bike Pirates.
Since I would be getting there after 12:30 I knew that I would probably have to
sign in and wait for a stand. I leaned my bicycle against the window and went
inside. There was a young woman standing in front of the counter. Den was standing
nearby arguing with a guy that he was accusing of coming in just to get cheap
parts that he could sell elsewhere. The young woman ahead of me didn’t know if
the list sitting on the counter was that day’s list because it was very long
and looked like the one from Tuesday night. I asked Den to confirm that we were
looking at the sign-in sheet, but he was cranky as usual and chronically unable
to do the simplest multitask. He barked, “Just a minute!” and continued his
chastisement of the guy in the black corduroy Lenin cap. If Den was pouring tea
and someone asked if he had a beard he’d probably respond in a similar way.
Finally, after a concluding threat to the guy with the tires in his
hand, Den turned to us and informed us that we were indeed looking at that
day’s list. The young woman signed in first and then I put down my moniker. It
looked like there were quite a few people ahead of me so I figured that I had
time to go home and change into my pants and shirt that already smelled of oil.
I left at the same time as the man in the mariner’s cap and once we were
outside I assured him that Den was cranky by nature but that he was actually a
pretty nice guy. He told me that he’s known Den for quite a few years and
offered the view that the people at Bike Pirates are a generally ill-tempered
lot. I argued that not all of them are. He explained that they have some of the
best parts in the city at Bike Pirates and that he likes to shop their basement
from time to time, but they don’t seem to like that, since he does so when he
doesn’t have a bike on a stand.
I informed him that he could also get bike bones at Parts Unknown but he
let me know that he’s known George for a long time as well. He shared that
George has fallen on rough times since his store in Kensington Market got
evicted. I recall looking for that store once and not being able to find it.
Apparently it was down a laneway and in a garage but because of the location it
was a cash cow for George. Since then he’s had a lot less money and his
drinking combined with age have caused his health to deteriorate. But he good
news is that he’s just gotten on ODSP.
The guy in the fisherman’s cap told me that my bike looked like a
Mercier, and I remembered that Melissa had said the same thing, though I hadn’t
been able to find any matching images online of Mercier’s with my velo. He
stated that the Dutch make very good bikes too and it turned out that the one
he was holding was a Simplex. He said it was fairly new and yet it looked like
a stylish vintage bike. I get the impression that the Dutch like old things and
new things that look old. The guy in the Lenin cap, who introduced himself as
Leo, told me that he had gone to Holland to try to work fixing bikes, but they
take their bicycles very seriously over there and so even though he was very
qualified they wouldn’t let him repair bikes, even though he was able to find
employment in a machine shop. I asked if he was Dutch and he answered no, but
that he likes hash and so that was why he’d gone there.
After about ten minutes of chatting with Leo, I took my bike upstairs,
and then I walked back to Bike Pirates to see where my name was on the list. It
turned out that I was next, so I went back home to change my clothes. When I
came back, Dawn, who was working in the kitchen, asked me how I was. I
responded in kind and then I told her that I’d heard that she would be
impressed by my Simplex derailleurs. She looked puzzled but admitted that she
feels nostalgic about Simplex because when she started riding they were pretty much
the only derailleurs around. Suddenly Den said to me, “There you are! You’re on
stand number four!) I guess my name had been called while I was changing. I
went to get my machine.
After clamping it to stand 4 I removed the seat from the post and then
the post from my bike. The pop-can strip that was still in left a spiral of
silver stripes on the almost new post as I twisted it out of the seat tube. The
ideal volunteer to approach about the too small seat post was Dennis, since
he’s the one that picked it for me brand new from the front, slipped it into my
frame and told me it fit. I found him sitting at the back in the corner and
when I looked at him he insisted, “I’m not really here! You didn’t see me! I’m
about to leave! What can I do for you?” I explained that I’d found out that
he’d given me a 2.2 seat post when I needed a 2.4 and so my seat had dropped.
He saw no problem with making an exchange for me, so that’s what he did.
When he handed me the larger seat post I wasn’t exactly sure what to do to
spread the tube to allow it in and I didn’t want to do the wrong thing. Dennis
advised me to, “Be gentle.” I got Ife to watch me do it and advise me along the
way. I removed the nut and bolt that crossed the area that I was supposed to
spread. I started a little high so he guided me down and then after I started
he urged me to, “Do it like you mean it!” It didn’t take much prying to open it
up enough to fit the post in.
I mounted the seat and tightened it, but noticed it was still moving
from side to side. I asked Ife about it and he said there must be a problem
with the seat. I looked for another, since I knew there were a few Life Foam
seats in the bin. Mine was in better condition than the others though, so I
considered exchanging the attachment parts from another seat with mind. It
suddenly dawned on me though that I had forgotten to tighten the seat post and
that was why the seat had been turning.
With the seat problem fixed, I figured I might as well fix the problem
that Melissa had pointed out to me the night that I finished building my bike.
She’d told me that my headset was loose. Fortunately Melissa was in the shop at
the time and hanging out by the kitchen. I approached her, reminded her of the
problem she’d pointed out to me and asked if she could help me if she had the
time. She said she could have her coffee later and came to assist me.
It took a few minutes but it wasn’t a major undertaking. Some adjacent
parts had to be loosened first and she wondered who had tightened them because
they were a major task. I told her that she had tightened them when we’d first
set the whole thing up. Once it was done the forks didn’t have a slight wobble
anymore.
I mentioned that I had gone to the dentist about my denture earlier that
day and she informed me that one can get an implant in Buffalo for $1000 and
that she might set aside her political views about the United States to take
advantage of such a bargain. That is a lot cheaper than the $2500 I’ve heard
quoted for Toronto. Melissa had heard that it was $8000 for an implant up here.
I mentioned that the brakes were still squeaking a bit. One set was
already toed in and so she did the other. She told me that the only other thing
that can cause squeaking is a dirty rim, so I guess I should have went over
them with some steel wool. I’ll do that next time, or just buy some and do it
at home.
I took Frenchie for a test drive and everything seemed fine.
Since the seat post had been an exchange and since I’d spent a lot of
money at Bike Pirates over the last few week, I only donated $5.00 this time.
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