The Blinding Light of Hope
I thought that I'd break from my usual festering on geo-political catastrophies and reciprocate, or rather sing the praises of a bit of good fortune that swung my way. About a month ago I bought a house. This was a big decision, but all and all, a sound one. The problem with buying a house in my neck of the woods is that even the most modest of abodes is horrendously overpriced from my middle class midwestern perspective. This being so coupled with the fact that while I'm not hard up for cash I 'm also no tycoon, precipitated the purchase a home in a good location in the city I have grown to love that, that needs a tremendous amount of work.
Over the years I have been employed in many, many positions that utilized my back and shunned the mind. I took on their physicality as a challenge, attempting to educate the bluecollars that not all "college boys" are limp wristed nancy boys. I have cut down trees, washed many a dish, moved countless boxes brimming with all objects known to man, painted more houses than I care to remember, and even spent a summer as a municipal garbage man. In the end I was always offered a fulltime position and appreciated for my effort and ethic. I bid ado to these temporary employments in as courteous an manner as possible. It's hard to tell you co-workers that under no circumstances would I ever consider this a practical option for my future. The reason for this seeming break of continuity is that for all the teduim and toil of my laborious past I never landed a construction gig, aside from a kitchen remodel I assisted an uncle with many moons ago. Like most people I have to do things to learn them. I have to jump in the trenches and make mistakes before I can achieve the intended goal. This is all to explain that I have no experience or residual knowledge of home restoration, and now had set couse on a rather extensive remodel.
When the transaction was complete I was the proud owner of a very expensive dilapidated piece of shit. Perhaps, I should note here that most of the drive to procure said home came from my sunny and optomistic girlfriend who has been lusting for a home of her own since the day we met. She ustilized her female wyles to convince me that this hopeless dump was a diamond in the rough. Alas I didn't see it that way but she is very hard to resist.
My wonderful "new" old home was lacking a functional septic system, working bathroom, sound roof, modern electrical system, and had suffered from general lack of up keep and sanitation. But these were the very reasons I was ever able to make the leap to home ownership. So I ordered a debris box grabbed a sledge hammer and began venting my all my rage on a rotting bathroom.
After several days of wanton destruction I had killed the bathroom. It at times caught me by surprise, like when I ripped down the celing and discovered the joy of bathing in insulation. Or when I discoverd the nest and secret stash of a long since dead varmant that had made its nest behind the tub. But in the end I was victorious and also at a crossroads. Now that I had done what I naturally excell at (destruction) I needed to "con-struct".
I called several contractors who offered outrageous bids to remedy the situation and was left hoping to find a soultion at the bottom of a bottle. I had no hope of pulling this thing off in my specific time frame and monetary situation.
I swear to you I don't believe in miracles but I bore witness to one, as my brilliant girlfriend placed a call to her parents (whom are experienced remodelers) and scammed them into comming out here to save my impending disaster. Like white knights of gracious humanity they accepted the challenge and arrived a few days later ready for battle. They stayed for four days durring which they refinished my floors, knocked down unwanted walls and errected desired ones, produced a floor in my beleagured bathroom and imparted a lifetimes worth of techniques and tips to me. It was like the vulcan mind meld they placed their hands on my temple and showed me the way. It was true deus-ex-machina type of shit.
So now I am back on track and actually managed to learn and avoid making costly or foolish mistakes. I cannot stress enough the fact that aside from my parents raising me, nobody has done such a selfless and extended good deed for me as they. Hats off you gods amongst men may fortune shine bright on your old kentucky home as you have done me the greatest favor.
Over the years I have been employed in many, many positions that utilized my back and shunned the mind. I took on their physicality as a challenge, attempting to educate the bluecollars that not all "college boys" are limp wristed nancy boys. I have cut down trees, washed many a dish, moved countless boxes brimming with all objects known to man, painted more houses than I care to remember, and even spent a summer as a municipal garbage man. In the end I was always offered a fulltime position and appreciated for my effort and ethic. I bid ado to these temporary employments in as courteous an manner as possible. It's hard to tell you co-workers that under no circumstances would I ever consider this a practical option for my future. The reason for this seeming break of continuity is that for all the teduim and toil of my laborious past I never landed a construction gig, aside from a kitchen remodel I assisted an uncle with many moons ago. Like most people I have to do things to learn them. I have to jump in the trenches and make mistakes before I can achieve the intended goal. This is all to explain that I have no experience or residual knowledge of home restoration, and now had set couse on a rather extensive remodel.
When the transaction was complete I was the proud owner of a very expensive dilapidated piece of shit. Perhaps, I should note here that most of the drive to procure said home came from my sunny and optomistic girlfriend who has been lusting for a home of her own since the day we met. She ustilized her female wyles to convince me that this hopeless dump was a diamond in the rough. Alas I didn't see it that way but she is very hard to resist.
My wonderful "new" old home was lacking a functional septic system, working bathroom, sound roof, modern electrical system, and had suffered from general lack of up keep and sanitation. But these were the very reasons I was ever able to make the leap to home ownership. So I ordered a debris box grabbed a sledge hammer and began venting my all my rage on a rotting bathroom.
After several days of wanton destruction I had killed the bathroom. It at times caught me by surprise, like when I ripped down the celing and discovered the joy of bathing in insulation. Or when I discoverd the nest and secret stash of a long since dead varmant that had made its nest behind the tub. But in the end I was victorious and also at a crossroads. Now that I had done what I naturally excell at (destruction) I needed to "con-struct".
I called several contractors who offered outrageous bids to remedy the situation and was left hoping to find a soultion at the bottom of a bottle. I had no hope of pulling this thing off in my specific time frame and monetary situation.
I swear to you I don't believe in miracles but I bore witness to one, as my brilliant girlfriend placed a call to her parents (whom are experienced remodelers) and scammed them into comming out here to save my impending disaster. Like white knights of gracious humanity they accepted the challenge and arrived a few days later ready for battle. They stayed for four days durring which they refinished my floors, knocked down unwanted walls and errected desired ones, produced a floor in my beleagured bathroom and imparted a lifetimes worth of techniques and tips to me. It was like the vulcan mind meld they placed their hands on my temple and showed me the way. It was true deus-ex-machina type of shit.
So now I am back on track and actually managed to learn and avoid making costly or foolish mistakes. I cannot stress enough the fact that aside from my parents raising me, nobody has done such a selfless and extended good deed for me as they. Hats off you gods amongst men may fortune shine bright on your old kentucky home as you have done me the greatest favor.
posted by Grand Marquis at 11:18 AM
1 Comments:
it's good to read a journal entry bathed in optimism.
I reccommend you marry that woman and send me a DVD (of the wedding of course-not any of the stuff afterwards...). Can't wait to come out and visit this new crib. Keep blogging kid. The world needs more.
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