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tff.-V» *, t \ \ \ 8 - ; Orono Weekly Times, Wednesday, February 18,2004 j Plumbing the depths Alex Figliolia had it all. A huge (10,000 square feet ) mansion mansion in New Jersey complete with indoor and outdoor pizza ovens, not to mention a manmade manmade pond, an indoor pool and a water fountain in the courtyard. courtyard. He had a loving wife whom he drenched in diamonds and pearls - also a $250,000 kitchen reno. He traveled in a limo with smoked windows and a license plate that read MR. FIG. Not bad. Not bad at all. For a practicing plumber. Of course, not every practicing practicing plumber has the New York subway system for a client, and alas, that is where Mr. Figliolia's cushy ride began to go off the tracks. Seems he 'padded' the bills he submitted to the New York subway authorities. You know those pipe rings you can pick up down at Canadian Tire for twenty bucks? Figliolia charged the city $250 each. He dinged his prize client $26 a pop for what turned out to be 49-cent fixtures. He submitted labour claims of $65 an hour. Meanwhile he paid his workers $64 - per day. Naturally, being a plumber, Figliolia was good at plugging leaks. Sometimes quite literally. A disgruntled employee named John Flemming threatened to blow the whistle on Figliolia's activities. Mister Flemming's body later turned up in the trunk of a car in Brooklyn with two extra orifices in the cranial region. In any case the party's over. Figliolia, his wife and even his son Alex Jr. have been slapped with a 116-count indictment indictment by the Manhattan district attorney, Robert Mor-genthau. "Everywhere we looked, we saw fraud," said the DA. I-low much fraud? $10 million million and counting. It's sad to see a bad apple like Mr. Fig besmirching the reputation of a noble profession - plumbers get enough dissing already. You know how it goes. A pipe bursts or a toilet backs up in the middle of the night and we're on the phone to the only guy we know who can fix it. Fie comes, he fixes, he bills. We go through the roof. Did we think he was working for free? My favourite plumbing story: a plumber gets a call to a doctor's home to fix a leaky water heater. After working for an hour, the plumber hands the doc a bill for $200: "Good God, man!" screams the doctor. "I spent seven years in medical school and residency and I've been practicing medi- , cine for over 20 years and I can't charge that kind of money!" The plumber smiles and says, "Yeah. I couldn't either when I was in practice." But mostly plumbers don't get to deliver the zingers. Mostly they get abuse. And few tradesmen have been more abused than Los Angeles plumber John Keating. Last year, Keating was called to fix a bathroom sink at a home in Beverly Hills. His knock on the door was answered by a woman. A woman wearing a leopardskin-print negligee. Keating is a pro. Eyes fixed firmly on his steel-toed boots, he asked to be directed to the problem sink. While working on the sink, Keating could not help overhearing the stentorian grunts and groans of a couple in the next room who were apparently apparently not playing Scrabble. Keating's concentration remained firmly on his task. But then, a nearly naked man came streaking into the bathroom, his clothes under his arm. The woman's husband had just come home, the guy gasped. Would John Keating puh-leeze make believe that he (the naked guy) was in fact the plumber's helper? By the time the husband breaks down the door, Romeo is dressed and down on all fours inspecting the sink's U-joint. But suddenly the phony assistant assistant snaps. He jumps up, announces that he loves the woman. The husband howls for vengeance. John Keating puts his arms over his head and wonders wonders Why Me? At which point, a TV producer jumps out of a closet and yells "Cut!" The whole scenario was a sham. A Candid Camera style put-on designed to show humourously the trials and tribulations of a plumber's life. But John Keating didn't laugh, he sued. His lawyer is seeking mega damages for "emotional distress, fear, shame, chagrin, sleeplessness, powerlessness, frustration and discomfort." I hear he's asking for $5 million million and I hope he gets it. Although if he doesn't it wouldn't wouldn't exactly be a tragedy, I guess. It's not as if he needs the money. The man's a plumber. I haven't sent in anything for a long time. I'm going in for hip replacement surgery Feb. 24th in Toronto, so thought this poem might be fun. I hope you like it. By the way, I really enjoyed Rob McDonald's article on recycling and the environment last week. Thelma Davidson REVENGE I have a hip a dreadful hip a lacy, shaky achy hip On rainful days this quaky hip emits a shameful blip, blip, blip On snowy days it's quite the clatter to hear its constant click, click chatter I'm happy though because I know this nasty hip is going to go and someday in the Village Dump there'll be a mournful thump, thump, thump but there will be no one to listen not one eye will even glisten no one will know this hip be missin'... © Thelma Davidson, Newcastle, Ontario Important Information for Residents you know... Residents who leave large quantities of unacceptable items at the curb, will be billed for the collection and disposal. Average fees for this service range from $200 - $400 per occurrence. Residents may also face a littering fine of up to $5000 per occurrence. tv Dispose of your residential waste properly^ For more mformation contort the Region of l*,rhon. Works Beportntent at (905) 579-5264 or 1-800-667-5671 Email • waste@region durham on ca