The day before we were to pick up the kitchen, I called the seller, a lovely schoolteacher named Scott Gordon. The silliness comes in the form of Adam’s love of authentic taverns. and the gas station guy wouldn’t turn the pumps back on, well, I shudder to think. And, if it wasn’t for the burly guy at the Wawa Timmy’s who sold us another jerry can of fuel, at cost, when we arrived at 9:05 p.m. If it wasn’t for Don at the road-salt storage dome (and before you label Don an angel, he charged us $50 for $25 worth of fuel) to get us to Wawa, we would’ve been waa-waa-ing at the side of the road. As Adam and I were leaving the Soo, I said: “You’re the driver, do you think we should fill up?” He replied: “Nah, we’ve got a quarter tank, and this is the Trans-Canada my good man!” is nothing compared to what will forever be known as the Jerry Can Incident(s). My first snag is that I didn't get the rental Ram the night before, which would’ve allowed us to leave at 6 a.m. It’s the snags and the silliness along the way. 3: Sometimes, the end-goal in travel, whether it’s a beach or a piece of famous architecture, isn’t what you remember most. And even though he’s moved on to vintage Land Rovers, if anyone out there knows where his Fury went, get in touch, would ya? And, when he went off to Egypt for another adventure and put the car in a storage lot, he came back after six months to find the lot had vanished along with his Fury. One time, when he was young, he drove a 1967 Plymouth Sport Fury III, which his friend Barclay helped him paint flames on, from California to Vancouver to Toronto. Courtesy Adam ThomĪdam also loves adventure. “Man, you are such a city boy,” he’d retort in disgust, and I’d keep my mouth shut and not remind him that he grew up in Scarborough.Īdam Thom and Luther the Cat, in front of a 1967 Plymouth Sport Fury III. “I get a real charge out of this ,” he’d continue, and I’d have to ask what, specifically, was recharging his empty architect batteries. “Would ya look at that?” he’d say often when it was my turn to drive, and I, your humble Architourist, would look around and not see anything. Adam actually loves rocks, trees and big water. Thom as “Adam” henceforth, since it’s odd calling someone I now know inside and out (after spending 72 hours straight with him) as a “mister.” While Adam does appreciate interesting design objects – he was a sculptor before he became an architect – he isn’t cooped up with me to look at a wall oven, cooktop, fridge and yellow-laminated millwork I discovered online when I still had a working kitchen.
And, if the kind editors at The Globe and Mail will allow it, I’ll refer to Mr.
My travelling companion for the next 72 hours is architect Adam Thom of Agathom Co. The rented Ram Promaster, tasked with hauling the vintage appliances back to Toronto. 2: If one is to embark on a 28-hour round-trip with the ridiculous reward of purchasing vintage appliances, it’s wise to bring an interesting travel companion, or else it’s books-on-tape and/or contemplating the vastness of the universe and the fact that we’re probably alone in it, or, worse, the aliens don’t want to touch the mess we’ve made of things. So this is like that I suppose … plus, the main floor of my new place will contain my wife’s mid-century modern furniture store, Ethel, and we often rent things to film and photo shoots. My first car, in 1990, was a 1970 VW Beetle it was a pain in the neck to drive and the heat was patchy at best, but I wanted to experience that car. Sometimes, they look like equipment NASA engineers used to propel Neil and Co. Scott Gordonĭid I mention I just moved and am in need of a working kitchen? And that I never do things the normal way, such as go to a big box store? Regular readers of this space know I have a fascination with the architecture of the postwar period well, it extends to design objects also. The 1962 Eaton's Viking kitchen in Shuniah Township, Ont.