One day about a week ago, I’d risen early to feed the dog. Next, I’d turned on the coffee machine to help kick-start my day. Then, I’d fetched the newspaper from the latest overnight snowfall on the driveway and I’d read the headline that Trump had called Polish President Volodymyr Zelenskyy “a dictator.”
“What the…?” And I was about to sit down to find out more over that cup of java when I noticed a wet spot on a carpet in our bedroom and reacted out loud. “Did I spill something here?”
Then, I felt a drop on my head, looked up and realized the ceiling light fixture was dripping water. And based on the length and breadth of the wet spot on the carpet, I concluded this had probably been going on all night. Given the massive snowfall we’ve received in the past few weeks – bringing heavy build-ups of snow on rooftops and icicles the size of canoes hanging from some of our eavestroughs – I sense this is a common problem around town.
I remembered when this happened a few years ago, that the combination had pushed ice up from the troughs and under our shingles. Then, the slightest thaw sent the resulting melt into our ceiling and through that same light fixture.
So, with whatever speed I could muster and even less skill, I borrowed my neighbour’s ladder and began scraping snow from the roof, melting the ice in the eavestrough with a hair dryer, and bashing what ice was left with a hammer.
Oh, it was only later that I read the rest of the U.S. president’s baseless criticisms of Zelenskyy. “I think I have the power to end this war,” Trump said. “But today I heard, ‘Oh, we weren’t invited.’ Well, you’ve been there for three years. You should have never started it.”
“Did I miss something?” But by that time, I’d finished clearing the ice and, at least temporarily, I thought we’d nipped the leaking light fixture problem in the bud.
A day or so later, the leaking came back. Yes, I remember, it was about the time I caught the beginning of a news story about Argentina’s libertarian president Javier Milei presenting a surprise gift to Elon Musk at a conservative conference outside Washington. I gather that Milei handed him a massive red metallic chainsaw, to assist the manic billionaire in his slashing and burning of the U.S. federal civil service.
However, that’s when my wife and I noticed that the dripping of our ceiling light fixture was getting worse. Desperate times required desperate measures. I decided I should venture into the attic. I should add that I’d never been up there before.
But with my trusty trouble light and care not to put my foot through the ceiling from above, I found a build-up of ice along an intersection of the two surfaces of the roof inside the attic. I deduced that it had to come out; so, I retrieved cutting tools, scrapers and a bucket and spent the couple of hours lying on my stomach extricating the ice from inside our attic.
I learned later that Milei had inscribed the chainsaw for Musk, “Viva la libertad, carajo,” translated “Long live freedom, damn it!” After which Musk shouted, “This is the chainsaw for democracy!” looking eerily more like ripper Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th than a U.S. secretary of efficiency making America great again.
But, in the end, it didn’t matter. I had more important problems to deal with. The leak in one light fixture had spread to a second fixture and a third leak over the entrance to the bedroom.
That’s when I heard about Conservative leader Doug Ford arriving at a west-end Toronto facility for training men and women in the construction trades. There, I understand, after dodging the media most of this current provincial election, the premier appeared like Captain Canada again and promising,
“With Trump’s tariffs threatening millions … who’s gonna fight for you? We’ll get it done!” Really? Is that what regular Ontarians actually want to hear right now?
It was about that time that we began raiding our pantry shelf for all the pots and pans we’d need to collect the water drip-drip-dripping into our house. The symbolism of attending a leaky ceiling while the Trumps, Musks and Fords of the world spouted mistruths, threats and empty promises, seemed to put things into perspective.
In the days ahead, we can only hope that ordinary attempts to cope will prevail over the noise of those who claim to be extraordinary.