Theatre Of The Mind

June 2, 2009 at 4:26 PM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
  I went to the movies the other day with my daughter.  In the town she lives in, there is a small 4-screen theater.  But they have new owners, and they have been renovating the place.
  Oh, is it spiffy.  But small.  The "Ticket Counter" was closed, and you just walked around to the snack counter and got your tickets and popcorn all in one step.  I love the small-town feel:  2 tickets, 2 sodas and popcorn, 22 bucks.  Watching a movie on a small dirty screen in middle-school auditorium style chairs:  priceless.
  There were about twelve people or less besides us in the theater, not including the hall monitor walking around shushing us.

Did we get some pix?
 
  Since we got the patio, we been workin on projects around the house.  My plan, as it evolved, was to make some room for storage in the garage so I could get some of this shit put away and out of the way so I have room to work–so I could work on the other projects.
  We made the patio.  Detroit put the patio furniture together.  She put her mom’s rocker together, and I finished it, banging on it to get the rockers on the bottom of it.  I went to the hardware store and bought some lumber and hardware.  I had a vision–
  I don’t know if I saw it on a TV show or at a trade show, or some display somewhere.  I had the idea ever since I had my previous house in Troy, where I had a garage.  I wanted to build a rack hanging from the ceiling over the garage door.  When the garage door is open, you can’t see it.  When the garage door is closed, you can’t see it either.  Only if you are in the garage.  It hangs down creating a shelf tall enough to hold something 24 inches high.  This is taller than most tubs and totes, which is what I planned to put up there.
  For truth in advertising, I only have half of it built as I write, but I’m getting to the other half on my next evening off work.  Each half is about 8 feet wide and 6 feet deep.  I wanted to go 8 feet deep, but it turns out that the garage door would hit it and stop at that point.  So I could either move it, or take the garage door down.  Or just never open it again.  Either way–
  I ended up moving it forward.  Just at that point is where the door came up before it turns to go back.  I moved it forward to the next joist, shortening it by two feet.  This ended up making sense, as Detroit looks at it and says–if it’s 8 feet deep, it’ll be too hard to get stuff in and out of the back.  Is it strong enough for someone to climb onto?  Not necessarily, I thought.  This way, we can also access it from the back as well.  So, win-win.
  The left side is done, the plywood is up and nailed down, ready to hold storage.  Of course, before I could do this, I had to go to the hardware store.  First I went to Lowe’s, and I before I got the lumber I started with the hardware.  I got the lug screws, but I also needed bolts.  (You’d have to see my blueprints.)  I needed 3 1/2 inch bolts.  I found 3 inch, and I found 4 inch.  The 3 inch were too short–the story of my life–and the 4 inch were not threaded down far enough, so they were too long–again, the story of my life.  Mixed messages?  You bet.
  I get the lug screws because I already had them counted and bagged.  This was early Saturday morning, and I wanted to be painting at my sister’s house, but it was raining.  Fuck.  I needed something to work on, so this was it.  Then I went to Home Depot, right across the street.  I wanted to not like Home Depot, because it makes things easier to have fewer choices, but the last couple of times I was compelled to go there it was a reasonably okay experience.  It was here, at this time, that I discovered the secret for both Home Depot and Lowes.  To get any kind of help or service, you have to go EARLY in the morning, early-early,  Early, before they get busy, and early when the old people are working.  Then, it’s just like going to Handy-Man, the small neighborhood hardware store that I prefer.
  At Home Depot I get the rest of the hardware I need, and the lumber.  I settle on some 10-foot 2x4s and some plywood.  I get back home, get the truck unloaded, get out the sawhorses, gather all the tools together, and then I get the ladder from outside.  I have two ladders, although I swear I had three.  Actually, I had four. 
  The fourth one was one of those bendy ones.  Twelve feet long and it had hinges so it folded into four sections.  I left that one with my son at my old house so he could get on the roof there for Christmas lights and other ridiculous things.
  The third ladder is a 6-foot step ladder.  It’s at my sister’s house, but like I said, I have a tall ceiling in my garage.  Six feet is not enough.  Sometimes, the world is not enough.
  The second ladder, the one that’s missing, is either 8-foot or 10-foot.  I don’t really know, because it’s missing.  I think it was 8-foot, only because I have yet to see any 10-foot ladders.
  The first ladder is 12 feet.  I wasn’t sure until I measured it.  I also wasn’t sure of the height of the garage ceiling until I measured it.  I dragged the big ladder in, and tried to stand it up.  Not enough room.  I didn’t understand–after all, this is a big ass garage with a tall-ass ceiling.  I laid the ladder down and measured it.  Twelve feet.  I stood next to the wall and measured.  Ten feet, plus about five inches.  How many times does 12 go into 10 and a half?  Once, and it’s considered sodomy.
  I needed a different ladder.
  Detroit and I go to Handy-Man, because I had been to the other two hardware stores already that day.  I happened to have what I thought was extra money but will probably find out later that I am mistaken.  I found an 8-foot ladder that matches my other two, and Detroit curses me for bringing her to the store because she ended up buying some stuff.  Ha-ha, sucka-face!
  I work on the project until about 330, and then I had to take a nap before I went to work.  Sunday, I got up and whaddayaknow!–It’s not raining.  I went over to my sister’s house and painted her shed and primed the eave of the house that I had repaired, and then I came home and finished up the overhead rack on one side.  Now her house is ready to be inspected, and then I can move her shit from my garage to her shed, and then I can finish the other side of the storage.  So, getting rid of her shit covers about a 10×10 area, and then the storage covers about 8×6 twice, so that comes out to a total of about 200 square feet that I can theoretically clear up.
  I said "theoretically."  Maybe I need some special effects.  ILM, maybe.

Advertisements

Leave a Comment »

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: