Construction time. I crawled in for a closer look at the back wall of the Florida room. Indeed, it is built of scrap lumber by the Three Stooges. It was patched up in sections and should be replaced at any rate. Somebody strung bad wiring in there. To test the breakers, which are located in Wallace’s closet, I cranked the TV loud and listened. Nothing, the test is now a two man job unless there is another breaker box on the premises. Of all the days for my watch battery to die, but neither would I ever have a good day for such an occurrence. That’s what happens when you keep busy for life.(TV. Let me repeat that I think drug companies should grab a brain and quit listing obnoxious side effects of their junk. Who wants to hear all the nauseating details? While at it, look into these toaster companies. The first two slices take forever, but after that it works okay at about 45 seconds a pair. Has anyone but me noticed that? Up to three minutes for the first order, by which time my coffee is half gone and I’m sitting down. All brands have this completely dumb lag time. The coils are red, so there is no reason for the delay. Get it together, you engineers, and start building them like they did twenty years ago.)
I’ve cleared out the work area [for the new door] and made some discoveries. There was originally a passage where I want to put one. The trailer foundation shows the utility room was added as an afterthought by someone too cheap to run the Florida room the full length of the building. There are shelves up too high to be of any use without a ladder, yet no place to put a ladder. Half my morning was digging the stuff of ages from nooks built after the stuff was placed. That was hot, dusty, sweaty labor in the cobwebs.
In general, it is good news. The entire room was built by somebody congenitally incapable of thinking more than five minutes ahead, so it will be easy to rip out the mistakes. The major parts are Russian-style: built like a brick shithouse where needed but no finesse after that. There may be enough lumber in there to almost finish the job. The extremely well-poured concrete pad and skirt actually make the work easy, and probably a dream from a plumber’s point of view. It makes for a dry, bright, work area. The book says installing the door requires a helper. Where we gonna find that?
I have to use a right-handed door that swings outward. This means exposed hinges, so I have to consider installing frame pegs. What? Oh, sorry. A right-handed door is when you stand on the side of the door that you pull open, the knob is on the right edge. I will have to put in a sill and weatherproof the opening. How does one cut metal siding? Tin snips. The partition that needs moving is merely a single layer of hardboard.
Two more hours and I’ve got the doorway area cleared of shelves and debris. The builder was also a little unclear on the concept of different types of nails, so he just put twice as many of anything he could find. Then a ten minute downpour sent me inside for lunch. The lagoon is wider than my stepping stones. By twice. The water drains away quickly but one is still stranded ten minutes after the rain stops. The water fills almost to the crown of the road, which is six feet further than my pads. I’ll have to get to thinking on how to solve that. My first instinct is to lay the pads out far enough and just let cars drive over them, but some local dickhead would trip over them.
Unlike my old place, now I can’t hear the phone ring from the other end of the building, so I got a voicemail from the Hippie. What is going on? Now he’s saying in addition to wanting me to play tomorrow, today he wants be to pick him up, give him a ride someplace and back, and use my PA system. I think. Either way, this is becoming much different than just playing. I’ll leave my equipment in my car just in case, but that was not part of the deal. While that means there may not be room for his gear, I am not driving back here to load mine a second time just because of his bad choice of words. The guy would get more done in life by telling the simple truth, such as, “My PA system is missing and I’m asking you to play so I can use yours.”
He also said something about Cowboy Mike. Is this another layer of complication? Return for more of the inside story on this one. I was going to use tonight to check that rattling speaker on my Yamahas. Now maybe I can do that at Marvelous Coffee. It is out near University and thus some babes may actually show up. Usually, though, the coffee house thing is the over 40 crowd.
Addendum: I finally got the Hippie on the line late this afternoon. I’ve learned not to undertake any large tasks based on his situation more than 8 hours before an event. Sure enough, things changed again and now he does not need a ride and is going to play without a PA system tonight and has his own microphone.
The coffee house. It was your standard open mic with the usual crowd. That means guitarists who can’t sing or vocalists who can’t play, and overall, this bunch was better than average. I got in almost 90 minutes of play time but that is partially because I can’t put up a sign that says, “Hey, you amateur guitarists, no, none of your music is really original. Don’t hum a few bars because no, I am not going to customize a bass line for you in the parking lot. I am plain not interested.”
I’d rate the evening a success. At one point we had a five piece orchestra consisting of drums, bass, lead, rhythm and accordion. We played to an empty house. That is the chance you take and at a 25 mile round trip, it is not likely I’ll be hanging out there building up a following at my own expense. As usual, I found myself covering for missing guitar licks during the chops and being drowned out during solos. (Guitarists never seem to notice how quickly I forget tunes that have indistinct bass lines.) Cowboy Mike never showed. I’m informed he has added a snare and high-hat to his act. Wherever does he get such practical and workable ideas?
Yes, the Hippie’s PA system is missing, or at least unavailable. Contrary to what I was led to believe, the gig tomorrow at Donovan’s is not established and it is his first show there. The “coffee house” tonight was a restaurant, and a nice looking place. Donovan’s is a raunchy pub and that means a real gig. The Hippie tends to invite his students to the open mics, which can considerably water down our show. That is, my bass playing is designed to back up a single other instrument and loses impact when more people join in. The more because the Hippie tends to forget how closely I mimic the original music. Again, a success, but the kind with no money.
