I need my Glue!

I know that sounds like an addicts cry for some good huffing, but really it's just so I can get some production done for our next show and open studio. This is the other half of BBJ, making my wife proud and contributing to Beever Living. I tend to speak/write in tangents, so bear with me as I try to rein myself in.

As we walked to our studio this morning, trying to figure out what the day will bring us (orders please) I was reminded how I got to be part of this machine we call ours. The display company that I used to work for has returned to our neighbourhood, and we walk by their windows occasionally looking in to see what's new. Frankly it's the same old shit, that I was doing nine years ago with them. Feeling friendly and noticing the window open we ducked our heads down to say hi to Tim. He always tells you about someone from the past that we worked with, that he has run into. And I always have no clue who he is talking about. Then he asks "are you still making buttons?" No grasp at all about what we do at BBJ. I got introduced to the two guys working with him, which he called ladies (love me some early morning misogyny). I then replied "Be careful, they will try and kill you." I meant it too. One of the guys then replied to me "you are the one who fell through the ceiling." "Yep, that's me, they tried to off me but I'm still here, nice try though." At least they are still talking about me, a tiny little legend in their tiny little world.

Oh the opportunity of injury. While working for above mentioned display company in the FALL of 2000, I broke myself up good, head to toe really. We were doing an installation at Atrium on Bay for Christmas . I was in charge of this installation, and managing the production of all the greenery, swags, wreaths, boughs, trees for all the other project sites. I was exhausted, working nights usually about 16hrs a day, driving big boom and scissor lifts through the malls hanging ugly-ass decorations 30-50 ft in the air. I had cried to Robin that night before leaving for work, she held me tight trying to convince me not to go. I went. It had already been a day of challenges, a woman who had just gotten knee surgery fell down our stairs, she had to have surgery again, and I had amassed a hundred dollars in parking tickets in one day.

So on the site, me and my co-worker Al had just finished hanging a wall sconce, there was just the electrical to gaff so I sent Al down the mall to finish off something else. Being over-tired, I jumped a rail to finish the electrical, lowering myself on to a platform. It wasn't solid, it was drywall. I don't remember falling, but about twenty minutes later my moans got the attention of my co-workers. I had fallen through the level of the mall, into the old Olive Garden which was all boarded up. After punching through the walls they found me. I had hit a metal rail on my way down which broke my heel four times, and then jackknifed back and fractured my skull, hence no memory of the fall. I was wandering around the Olive Garden trying to find my way out, vomiting (head trauma) and falling down (broken foot). All the emergency persons arrived, and my first memory was being on a gurney travelling underground from Mount Sinai to Toronto General.

One month in a neck brace, four months of walking on one foot, seven months of physio and a year of workers comp, all ended with me becoming part of BBJ.

Found out the glue ain't coming till tomorrow, darnit.