The past few years has seen an explosion in true crime stories. Whether it be podcasts, TV shows, movies or books – or sometimes a TV show based on a podcast from a movie that started out as a book – there’s a lot to choose from and we can’t seem to get enough of them. And I confess (or was this a false confession), I too enjoy a good true crime saga – but I never thought I would actually be in one (cue ominous music).
This is a true story (I mean most of what I write in these blurbs is true – or largely true or substantially based on truey type things – but this one really is really truly true).
It started innocently enough, but then it always does start innocently, doesn’t it? We put out our two garbage bins one evening, but in the morning, after the collection, one was gone (cue trashy music). No big deal, we thought mistakenly, and so we called the city to ask for a new bin. And that’s when things started to get strange (ominous music again please).
The person on the phone asked us for the serial number of our garbage bin. Serial number? On a garbage bin? Since when did garbage bins have serial numbers? Quite a while apparently – and if you live in Toronto and you don’t believe me go check your bins yourself – you’ll see the numbers on the front of the bin right by the bar code (yes, there’s a bar code too). So, we got the serial number and called the city back and got the shock of our lives (OK, I might be exaggerating here just a bit, it wasn’t the shock of our lives, but it was very surprising – and deserves some shock music).
Apparently, the bin that we have been calling our own bin for years, the bin that we’ve treated as our own bin, the bin in which we have placed the intimate aspects of our lives that we can bear to part with and can’t be recycled, that bin isn’t ours!!!! A review of the serial number revealed that the bin belonged to someone else? But who? Did they steal our bin (I guess it isn’t really our bin, but it feels like a part of the family and I’ll always think of it that way) in order to rejoin its brother or sister bin? And if that isn’t our bin – and I guess it isn’t – then who has our bin (or bins because we had two and that’s what started this whole thing). We wanted answers and we wanted them now.
So we asked the person at the city, “Whose bin is this and where are our bins?” And while we wanted answers, we didn’t get them – instead we were told to wait until the investigation was complete. Yes, they said “the investigation.” The investigation!?!?! There’s going to be an investigation!!?!? Are we suspects? Do we need a lawyer? Does anyone know a good lawyer??? What have we started and where will this end????
And then, after we calmed down a bit (just a bit, our minds were still racing) we asked ourselves who would be doing this investigation? Who has the expertise and the knowledge to take on a task this daunting? Perhaps the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew, but they’re kinda old for these kind of things – racing around in back alleys trying to find runaway bins. Could be Scooby Doo and his pals, or maybe the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or the Paw Patrol?
I hate to leave you in suspense, but like any good true crime podcast or series, there is more to come – but you’ll have to wait – as we wait – for the next episode (cue theme music).
You know what’s no mystery, however: when Gordon’s Acoustic Living Room will be having its next show at the Free Times Café on College just west of Spadina (I love segues – and while I don’t like to brag – I think I’ve become pretty good at them). Because it’s gonna be Sunday, October 16. And, like always, the show will start at 8pm. And while the tunes we’re going to play are a mystery right now, all will be revealed on the night – no cliff-hangers. And there will also be lots to eat and drink, and in honour of the mystery of changing of the colours of the leaves, there will be no cover. Hope to see you there.
P.S. None of the imaginary music referenced above was, will be or an ever can be, played on the bagpipes.