Moral-Flexibility.Net

Should be common sense, but then again when did common sense become common?

Ok, so the only rambling I’ve done of late has been entirely focused on the move, the house and stuff like that there. Have no fear faithful readers, more zombie goodness will return (particularly now that my zombie DVD collection is unpacked).

There will be more house stuff posted online, but we’ll try to tip the scales back in the direction of the undead.

The move went smoothly enough, certainly better than expected. We spent a few extra bucks and hired Quick Boys Moving instead of “Two functional illiterates with a truck” this time around. The difference was staggering. The truck (and three movers) arrived twenty minutes early, began loading exactly at 09:00 and finished at 10:00. They arrived at the new place at 12:00 and finished unloading at 13:00hrs, total cost for the move came in $100 under their estimate (even with the tip included).

Once the movers departed Lisa and I began unpacking like mad in preparation for Jillys return today. step-dad Chris came by and sank his teeth into replacing our kitchen faucet (and connecting the washing machine properly). Mom, Dad and KD also stopped in (often more than once) to offer help in various forms.

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We are now moving. I say again, we are now moving.

Due to the various and sundry providers we are dealing with, and their scheduling limitations, we will be offline for the next 24-48hrs. Lord knows it may actually kill me, but rest assured once those techs get us online at the new place I’ll be online faster than Mayor Miller calling for a gun ban after a shooting.

A bit of racing around highway 401 today. Racing out to the new house to meet the satellite people, then sweeping, mopping, rug shampooing and assorted pre-move administrivia. For the record, it is official, it is our new house. We have the keys and everything.

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Ladies and gentlemen I have just been informed that we now own 28.5% of a house. The deal has closed.

I’d pontificate a bit here, but we still have packing to do.

[And for the record, I could have attended ZombieCon, all the problems we encountered were of the “last minute” variety. Irritating.]

ZombieRama has a list of the Top ten mistakes in a zombie film, a few of my favorites are;

2. Do not read from any books written in blood and bound in human skin, or listen to any tapes made thereof. This has a tendency to cause zombies to appear.

7. If you are trapped by zombies with someone that you don’t get along with, keep a close eye on that person. Experience has shown that conflict within a group of defenders can provoke irrational actions, leading to the demise of one or more of the group.

10. If you’re trapped in a farmhouse by a zombie horde, don’t just sit there waiting for rescuers. Use your spare time to make a big sign that says “DON’T SHOOT ME, I’M HUMAN!” so that said rescuers don’t make a mistake when they see you.

Anyone have any other suggestions for surviving a zombie movie?

When in doubt, stick with what works.

Our time here draws to a close. In just a few days Lisa, Jillian and I will cease to be residents of Toronto. All three of us were born in this city, and we three have spent most of our lives here. It’s a city I’ve always thought of as home, a place that has always seemed somewhat larger than life in my memories, and one that I’ve spent countless hours defending to others while living away from it.

As I sit here I can’t help but feel that I should be experiencing some remorse at our imminent departure. Sadly, no such feelings exist.

There is, at best, a sense of fondness for the city. Much of this place lives indelibly in my memory. The auto shop that my cars air conditioner was fixed at last week is on the same corner where my foot became caught in the spokes of my fathers bike as a child. My part time job was (until I resigned last week) within a block of the house that my grandfather bought when he came to Canada, a house that my father grew up in and one that our entire family knew from gatherings when I was young. Nightly my job takes me on a tour of the city, and as the hours pass I am assailed by a host of memories. Locations, people, experiences.

It, however, no longer feels like home.

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