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Pipe Organ Magic


TRIBE Member
Bach, Toccata and Fugue in D minor, organ - YouTube

I was younger and only shaved that little bit of fuzz below my nose and a tiddleywink on my chin.

Oh and I was an engineer at a Japanese car factory somewhere between Toronto and Barrie. I think if you took the highway 89 cutoff you could get the best wings I've ever had while drinking and driving. Lots of snow, no cops.

Well, in Alliston, you need a proper place to live. I found a Victorian home, with an unusually large, mammoth even, addition. Didn't ask about that, but did ask about the rent. $75 per week. Oh ho, I charge even less than that these days at my slumlord millionaire place.

mom> "Are you Catholic?"
Old man> "Oh I'd love to be Catholic but my wife makes me Baptist."
me> "So, which is my room?"
Baptist lady> "You can't cook with oil or garlic here."
me> well I can barely cook at all.... so.....
mom> "This is really a fantastic house, where did..." my attention trailed off here

So a Norwegian fellow, an engineer at UW also, took the basement and a chemical engineer somehow moved into the high attic. I had a pretty room, probably meant for a girl, in the middle. That is to say, the house had five floors, probably built in 1800s, Victorian style.

The stairs to my room were solid, but the stairs that went further, up to the attic, where the Chem Eng student lived, were much less reliable. Each step was tepid and worrisome. The carpet was long disappeared and the wood unstable. Aha, and so I and Gareth, in the pinaccle there shared some of his moonshine cider, before we had the intention of finding the Norwegian in the basement.

And it so happened that the Baptist lady and her husband were gone for the weekend. And Gareth was downstairs somewhere looking or the Norwegian. And so I took a few tepid stairs down to a small door on the landing.

me> "What the hell is a door doing here?"

It was a small door, made perhaps for someone about 3' tall.

Naturally I was drunk and opened it. Gareth was still down looking for the Norwegian somewhere.

And inside that door I found a balcony overlooking an enormous pipe organ.

Oh, and it was cold. That room was not heated. And it was dusty. But I did find a switch, just to my left, which lit up the room, somewhat.

me> "Hey Gareth! Look what I found!"

but of course he could not hear me. He was searching for the Norwegian.

So I crawled through the doorway and onto the balcony, and there I found steps which lead to a Schneider electric, a very old model, fuse box. I paused, dusty, then pushed it on.

Well, somewhere in the bowels of that house, a motor began, cobwebs blew off the largest pipes, and somewhere I could here Gareth and the Norwegian

Gareth> mumbling "What the fuck?"

Oh and it was cold in that Alliston house. And the cold air was now moving along with a dark light that said>

musty pipe organ> "Come play me."

The room was massive. And yet, disconnected from the entire house. I took a small entranceway but I'm sure there must have been a more appropriate way in. There was dust on the keys and the foot pedals,

I could hear in the basement, some kind of rummaging, of the air power starting up. And when it did, I tested the high notes. Then the pedals. Aha, the bass notes rattled the windows, aha, and then I knew it was good. Aha, I laughed a little to myself, because I knew what was going to happen regardless of Gareth or the Norwegian... I was going to play Toccata and Fugue, with a heavy foot, before anyone changed my mind.

Alex D. from TRIBE on Utility Room


TRIBE Member
you could be the next Irvine Welsh if only you would do just a tad bit more drugs.