When you absolutely, positively need a urine specimen fridge
By Jessica King
Perhaps you are in the market for an oscilloscope, or an inductor, or a capacitor. Or maybe you need a couple of fan blades, without the fan, or golf-ball cores without the white outer layer, or a few plastic doll legs…or doll arms for that matter. You might even have woken up this morning and exclaimed: “Eureka! I have found a use for 50 to 60 rubber stoppers!”
Or perhaps you need none of these things and you never have and (most likely) never will. If you lean in this second direction, you’re more like me. If you not only know what an oscilloscope is, but also get excited when you see one, your imagination runs off in a different direction and you probably already know about Active Surplus. Described by one online directory as “Honest Ed’s on crack,” Active Surplus’s bulk bins hold treasures for a diverse bunch, from art students to dental students, to engineers, tinkers, mad scientists and inventors alike. This is a store for those who dream with their hands.
The store has had a presence in some form on Queen Street since the mid 1940s. It started out as two stores, one selling woodworking equipment and the other selling metal machinery. In a stroke of genius or madness, the owners tore down the wall between them and formed a partnership. The partners soon realized that selling small things was easier than selling big pieces of machinery, and they shifted their already scattered focus. Having abandoned the extended storefront 6 years ago for a sprawling second floor, they still sell a couple of larger things: street lights, for instance, but the majority of their merchandise lines the shelves in neatly labeled (although sometimes not so logically organized) cardboard boxes.
The success of any partnership doesn’t necessarily depend on seamless integration, an important realization for me as my boyfriend, a devoted customer, gleefully flaps around in a Hazardous Materials (Haz Mat) suit, recreating 2001: A Space Odyssey while I try to do some serious reporting. Over 60 years after the marriage of wood and metal, Active Surplus has not only made incongruity work, it has thrived off of it. Where else could you find a bolt cutter next to a bike lock? Or a parking meter on the same shelf as 3-D glasses?
After a tour around the store revealing more treasures, some of which are so special that I can’t figure them out even after they are explained, I decide to approach the friendly-looking older gentleman behind the counter. He becomes guarded and passes me off to a younger clerk after realizing that I’m not about to purchase a glass eye, or volt meter, or head magnifier, or a set of handcuffs.
Only on the payroll for three months, Robert is happy to answer my questions about the store and seems to know the entire stock eerily well. He’s been patronizing Active Surplus since he was a toddler and has kept on returning through his time as an OCAD student. Over the years he has progressed from electronic kits for beginners to supplies for the OCAD sumo-bot challenge, a robotics competition where student-made robots battle each other in the sumo style. So what does he think is the strangest thing sold at Active Surplus? “Some of the medical stuff kind of creeps me out” he replies, listing tracheotomy kits, suction hoses, IV solution, even IV needles, which they can’t put on the shelves. “Oh well,” I say, “at least you don’t sell bed pans.” “Oh no, we do,” he quips, “just down this aisle.” I try to regain professional composure.
But what of the doll extremities that made me stop in my tracks? Turns out they fly off the shelves. Robert claims to sell at least two a day, mainly to art students who need them for projects, or to people constructing magic tricks. He prefers to be blissfully ignorant of other possible uses.
Apparently the manager picked up the doll arms and legs on a whim, which is the reason also given for the presence up front of a large stuffed gorilla up front in an old orange Active Surplus t-shirt and black ball cap. “Borrowed” once by a group of UofT students from outside the store, he now greets customers as they reach the top of the stairs. This old Halloween costume has acted as the store’s mascot for at least 15 years, according to Robert. The gorilla fits in well, I think, as he reflects the store’s odd sense of staid whimsy.
Owned by a relative of one of the original owners, and operated by at least two different families, the store has a stable roster of employees, unlike many of the trendy stores that now surround it. The friendly man at the front who might be able to explain why there is a doll leg attached to a motor at the front counter has his entire family working here. Robert is a special case, as he claims that no one can expect to walk in off the street and get hired here. With all his years of devoted patronage, he was already familiar enough with the store to jump right in. However, he also recognizes that it will take time to be allowed into the inner circles of Active Surplus and estimates that 20 years of loyal service would do it.
Judging by this cornucopia of random stuff, the inner circle must be composed of an unapologetically quirky and creative bunch. I picture secret inventory meetings around a dimly lit round table, planning the next shipment of something that could possibly be of use to someone…if available in bulk. As outsiders, we can only visit, give the gorilla a little pat, sink our hands into a huge box of cool metal ball bearings and bring some up to the counter to purchase. After all, we may need them…one day.
Oh, and what is an oscilloscope, you ask? It’s a machine that allows you to see voltage in wave-form. Why would you need to do that? Now that question’s for homework.
ACTIVE SURPLUS
347 Queen West
at Spadina, 2nd Floor
HOURS
M-F 10-9
SAT 10-7
SUN 10-5