240 Russell Avenue

A strange way to start a blog indeed.

Why you ask? I had a dream. One of those weird dream where you re-visit a place you were once familiar with, but some of the elements have changed, new people play new parts, furniture isn't in the right spot, layout has changed, etc.

There were good times and bad times at 240 Russell Ave in Ottawa. A lot of where I am right now stems from this house I lived in for five years. It wasn't a rat-infested house like one of my friends (and also past room mate) Stuart so eloquently put it in his blog, but rather a single, lowly home in Sandy Hill which was in need of esthetic attention. However, good karma ran through the corridors of that house.

If it wasn't for 240 Russell, I wouldn't have met my great companion and wife, Claudette. Our courting began at the end of my stay in that house. It was a perfect way to end one adventure and begin another.

During those five years I lived with friends, met new people, had a gamut of interesting room mates, hosted many successful, themed parties (The Chicago Party, The Lime Green Party to name a few), owned and operated my own clown and entertainment business, let my hair grow long, and so on. I moved from room to room until I was in the biggest and best located one and crowned myself 'King of 240' as I had the highest seniority in terms of length of stay. I went through many cars, including two hearses, one or two shit boxes, and a brand new Tercel. I had some great neighbours and some that weren't. I had a couple girlfriends, but nothing good came out of those relationships.

240 Russell was sort of a right of passage for me. So many things happened to me in those five years that it formed my personality to some extent. It even had that effect on some of my room mates.

Every time I'm in Sandy Hill, I always make a point of driving by the old house to see if anything has changed... Nothing much has... There's still a bunch of beat-up cars parked in the driveway (and some on the grass, which was my spot for a while), some crap that would need to be cleared out like old furniture, wood scraps and car parts. The house still needs a good coat of paint and some new windows. If I manage to steal a peek at the interior, well, you can tell that it's still the same kind of people living there, carrying the torch of history, one life at a time.

240 Russell gave me Claudette, who took me away on new and exciting adventures and later gave me my beautiful boy, Sacha. I wouldn't have had all of this if hadn't been for that little, run-down house in Sandy Hill...