The search continues
This weekend’s roaming took me to Woden again (this time on purpose), as I’d spotted a possible candidate for solving my storage dilemma on the website of a reasonably well-known retailer. The first wisps of fog were pushing into the centre of town by the time I got on the bus, but mostly it was just cold and frosty, and whilst waiting for the bus, I wondered if in the morning, I would be bothered getting out of bed to do my usual 10 kilometres around the head of the lake.
As the bus rounded the southern flank of Capitol Hill and rolled past The Lodge, we found ourselves deep into thick fog that cut visibility to no more than 100metres. In the misty gloom, I could see sports fields rolling by, with parker donning parents on the sidelines, gesturing wildly at their children who stood on the field shivering in their shorts and team vests. Having spent many a cold morning running around the place, I knew exactly what those kids were feeling.
The CD tower turned out to be a 1.5metre high phallic looking piece of plastic, held together by screws, AND which had a rotating base. The parallels that could be drawn with owning such a storage device, and putting it out on show in my lounge room is likely to give off entirely the wrong vibe about a guy, although I hear these things are selling really well down in Woden.
I eventually ended up back in Fyshwick—it’s becoming an unsettling habit—where I was convinced I’d found the ideal cabinet for my needs, and with a few custom modifications, it’d be able to fulfil all my needs in that area and I’d be done with trips to Fyshwick once and for all. I’m a fussy shopper, a neurosis I seem to have inherited from my parents, whereby the spending of money, especially if the dollar value exceeded double figures, needs to be justified by the purchase of items that are durable; stylish; and functional.
Finding all three in Canberra is a bit of a challenge. When I arrived at the store in question to purchase the winning cabinet (or at least order one with my special modifications), I realised the thing was made from pine, a timber I’ve always steered clear of because it’s quite soft, and therefore fails the first criteria, of being durable. As it turned out, the only customisation I could do, was to double the face width of the cabinet and essentially have two cabinets combined into one, and they wanted to charge me $900 for that.
I regained my breath a short while later, and decided I’d take another look in Freedom, which surprisingly this time, actually had something that wasn’t too bad, in that it didn’t look like it could come from Ikea, so it satisfied criteria #2, and the top end version had the storage facilities I needed as well as doors fitted to keep things out of view, so it satisfied criteria #3. However, the experience I’ve had with Freedom furniture in the past, suggests it doesn’t quite stack up on criteria #1. Admittedly, the testing I’ve conducted did involve dropping a large chunk of glass table on a concrete floor, but still…
My favourite furniture store is without doubt, The Vast Interior, the furniture has a very antique-feel, is made from good timbers (though the cane I’m not so sure of), and it’s nice and solid, without a big price tag. I didn’t get from Freedom to The Vast Interior in time to catch them before they closed, so instead I crossed the street and knocked off that other task—the speaker stands. As it turned out, Bing Lee were the only store that stocked a stand that would take my speaker brackets. Well, actually, Domayne and the Good Guys also had similar stands, but their customer service was the worst I’ve ever experienced. Bing Lee’s service was exceptional.
So, by the end of the day, I found myself standing on a curb in the dodgy part of town, watching the sun disappear and wondering how long I’d have to wait for the next bus. After running around the entire day, all I had to show for myself was a few small bolts from the hardware store, and a small cardboard box that held my speaker stands—still no cabinet bought, however.
My life has become domesticated and boring. Another year of this and I’ll be a true public servant.