Yet another full dumpster of crap removed. I would venture that several tons of trash and/or items which are no longer needed have been removed from this space. That doesn’t factor in the removal of the old hood or kitchen floor.
At present time, I am trying to figure out my juke box. This is not an easy task. The user manual was written before the days of technical writers. In all honesty, I am fairly certain that it was written for a 45rpm juke box and they just switched it.
This is an actual title of a section in the manual:
READING AND SETTING A PROGRAM WITH PHONOGRAPH DOORS CLOSED
As a collector of said phonographs, I never, until this point, knew they had doors.
Even if phonographs have doors, what the hell does that have to do with the CDs that fill my juke box?
I will leave you with one question before I sign off for the evening. Upon coming in this evening, I noticed that my electrician was in here doing some work. I noticed this because 2/3 of a beer was finished and a six pack (which his name on it) was in the fridge. And while I am completely fine with this, it did bring the question to mind: if, god forbid, something was to happen to him, am I liable? I am guessing no, but my guessing has proven me wrong lately and so I am setting the almighty guesswork aside as much as I can these days.
I am hardly a sleuth.
StAR BAR, week six
Okay, now close your eyes and come with me on a little journey. Hmm. You probably didn’t get past “eyes” if you did what I said. Scratch that.
Let’s just pretend that it is still Sunday. I am writing in this blog on Sunday as I will be putting another post up later tonight.
On Saturday I drove to Seattle to get some bar stools. The stools themselves are nothing unique, they are the same stools you’d find at any restaurant supply store. However, these particular stools were used and half of what I would pay for them new. Besides seeing my dad, which would have been worth the drive alone, the drive was worth it.
On Sunday (today wink wink) I spent a good part of the day running errands. Hardware store here, fabric store there, antique lighting store yonder.
And then, yet again, I worked on the never-ending Maiden removal project. This time the chandeliers came down.
In preparation for hanging my own lighting, yesterday… er… today, I pulled out most of the lighting fixtures from the past, capped the wires and installed metal plates to hang my own fixtures.
I also took the tops off of all of the tables apart so I could walk through the bar. Moving a 10ft ladder through a bar that is more like Sanford’s yard is no easy task.
As I did this, the stools from Seattle were being sanded, patched, protected and sealed. They were used, after all, and had been in a storage unit for 7 years. I am glad that I was not the one working on that task.
Oh, my kitchen equipment was cleaned when I was in Seattle. It was like leaving to Pig-Pen and coming back to Linus.
Slowly, but surely.
sta r ba r, week six
So not only do the buttons work, they look great.
Chairs, chairs, and more chairs. Hopefully, without putting the ricksha before the ricksha runner, I have gotten rid of all of the chairs from the bar that was. They, the chairs and stools, will hopefully find a happy resting place in a more deserving establishment.
In return, the Bridgetown Star Bar, will get the bar stools it deserves.
I use the word “I” a lot in this blog. Excluding those that I pay for their skilled services, I am not alone in my work here and I hope it never comes across as though I am.
There are many involved in this project and many who care. It is one of the many, many reasons I am excited about the Star Bar.
I do not surround myself with “yes men” and “yes women.” I surround myself with amazing people who are good at what they do.
I am lucky.
I use the word “I” so much in this blog because it my blog. It is my narcissism. It is my diatribe. It is my diary.
To defend myself, it is also my sanity. This is my life right now. It is my reality, which is something I created… which is what we all do, so I realize I am not special.
Oh. Yeah. I started to hang lights today. They. Look. Awesome.
staR Bar, week six
Today was a bit of waste overall. It was poor planning on my part.
Today was bakery day. I was going to go to bakery after bakery sampling buns and rolls for my menu. Then I was going to find out more about wholesale prices and options.
Turns out, a lot of the bakeries in this town are full-up on their wholesale customers. Also, it turns out that calling these bakeries first saved me a lot of time as appointments need to be set up, questions need to be asked, and the availability needs to be determined.
Who knew?
So my day of driving turned out to be a quarter day of calling.
I then went to a couple restaurant supply places to look at the remaining equipment I will need. None of the stores had exactly what I was looking for, but I did get some free popcorn out of the deal so it wasn’t a total waste.
I also spent a lot of time on the phone figuring the smaller details of things and finished with the gold spray paint… until I paint the stars, of course.
So other than that it has been a relatively uneventful day.
sTar bar, week five
I did not forget about writing my dear diary yesterday, I just found that I didn’t have the time.
At my house, when I was going to cook myself dinner, I smelled the unpleasant odor of wires melting. Shortly thereafter there was three consecutive blue flashes and pops that came from behind the range.
No more cooking for me for now.
I spent a lot of time in traffic yesterday. Affordable, attractive, and functional bar lighting is, apparently not easy to find. I had to take back the other lights because they were short.
After driving to all corners of Portland, I ended up without any option other than the almighty Internet. Per usual, the Internet came through.
My buttons were the wrong size for my booths and that broke my heart. As I write this I am waiting to see if it will work.
My kitchen manager is here. He has not yet made the move to this fine city, but he is here and we are getting things together.
I am nervous about the timing of all this, but at the same time just I am anxious to get it open. I am not rushing anything, but many pieces have to fall into place for this to happen on time. My contractor dragged his ass so long that my cushions for everybody else became dust in the wind. We are all dust in the wind.
Sorry about that one. I don’t even have the gold paint to blame.
star Bar, week five
I would like to take this time to thank the Nissin company. Salt. Flavoring. Noodles. Hot water. Hail the almighty Ramen. Chief Ramen. Master Ramen. Top Ramen.
I have eaten this delectable dish two times in one week for the first time since my sophomore year in college… and I am pretty sure that even then, I put mushrooms in my bowl at least one of those times.
How things have changed. Now, I throw some organic green beans in the broth and call it a meal.
And somehow, after painting all night, it really was quite delicious.
In my complaints about plumbing and drywall, I would like to note that with plumbing, I do feel a sense of satisfaction when I complete a project. With drywall, I don’t feel that sense of satisfaction… I just feel tired and my lungs complain (because I am too stupid to wear a mask when I sand).
Sooo, tonight before painting I sanded… again. And now I am tired and my lungs are aching and Top Ramen was the easiest thing to make.
And I felt a lot more satisfied after making the Top Ramen than after sanding the mud. But it is nice to step back and look at a wall after painting, that is for sure.
Remember when I said I had my lighting all figured out? I lied. It really takes a considerable amount of thought and a significant amount of money to hang 27 fixtures, have 7 different dimming switches, and what feels like 78 miles of conduit (give or take 78 miles).
Oh, on a minor note, my old hood came down today. It was gone by 2pm. Only a gallon or two of grease dripping from the duct work remained.
If the sarcasm did not translate from the written word, this was huge. Besides the smaller things, this is knock on wood last last major bit of demo.
The demo has definitely taken a lot of the wind out of my sails. However, every time I move forward, every time I step back and look at the bar I am creating, my sails fill with hot air, like a good portion of my words, and I feel pretty good.
So with that, I say to you “come sail away, come sail away, come sail away with me.”
It isn’t my fault, really. I inhaled a lot of gold paint today.
STAr BAr, week five
It’s just me and bloggy mcgee.
It’s not that I didn’t want to write; that is the furthest thing from my mind. It is that I really didn’t have time to write.
My painters didn’t show up. I am not paying them, so I can’t complain, and it was a family emergency which takes precedence regardless, it just altered my plans somewhat.
Last night, about an hour was spent moving chairs from the front of house to the kitchen with the expectation of finishing painting the section in the front of the house from which the chairs came so that they could be returned and out of the way for good so that, in turn, the people finishing the kitchen could have access to what they need to do. That was a long sentence.
But with my painters not coming down, that plan dissolved and, well, I spent an hour moving the chairs into the basement which, in retrospect, is what I should have done in the first place.
In other news, I mudded and sanded walls—a task I enjoy about as much as plumbing minus the satisfaction I get from plumbing when the job is complete.
I also tried my hand at graffiti, an art form that I definitely have not mastered.
And finally, over the weekend, I continued my symbiotic relationship of large scale destruction with my reciprocation saw. Without me, that saw is nothing. Without that saw, I am not nearly as efficient of a demolition man. We, the saw and myself, don’t necessarily need each other to survive, but we definitely enhance each other’s experience.
Oh, did I mention that it is really damn hot outside and that I have not been able to figure out my air conditioning? If I had a basketball I would have looked like Patrick Ewing… sort of… but not really… other than the sweat part.
sTAr BAr, week five
Okay, minus the hood installation… Which will be a messy, messy job, my kitchen is done.
Tomorrow, my tile will be set and coated and I will move everything back into the kitchen. I will also get all of the lighting ready to hang.
Sunday I will paint again, but this time without a million things in my way.
Monday my hood comes down. My electrician starts hanging lights. Plumbing goes in to the second bar.
The wheels finally feel like they are in motion and it feels good.
STAR BAR, week four
Nothing says dedication like pulling out somebody else’s toilet.
I could never be a plumber. It is not that I mind water, rust, sludge or even the crap of another (though, admittedly, the latter does rate pretty high up there in why I couldn’t be a plumber). The main reason I couldn’t be a plumber is because nothing in the history of plumbing has ever been right. Plastic is used where metal should have been or the old pipes were not removed or the valve is leaking. If I didn’t have a van filled with every major attachment, fixture, pipe size, etc.—which I don’t—then I will always have to go back to the hardware store. In addition, my mouth gets foul when I do plumbing. The litany of cuss words I can string together, however, is rather impressive.
I have said this many times in this process and it is nearly true. There is very little left of the previous bar besides the stuff I wanted. The demo is done, at least the demo I can do. Every board, bit of garbage, nail and screw has been removed from the bar.
Okay, there are still several screws, nails, shards of glass and chandeliers that need to be addressed, but in time.
For the most part, the demo is done and the waste has been removed.
Unfortunately, I don’t get my kitchen back. But I do, however, get to move everything that was in the kitchen then moved to the front of the house back into the kitchen, mostly for good.
stAr bAr, week four
“As we go up, we go down.”
Thanks Bob Pollard.
Today I met my landlord. He came in to check out the hood saga.
Turns out, he has a hood from another building that he would sell me for cheap. I will still have to pay for the ducting.
Then I find that the hood may not work.
But then I find that the installation of a new hood and new ducting will come in much, much less than the first bid.
It pays to shop, kids.
As it stands, I have no idea how this saga regarding the hood will end. And hopefully by this time tomorrow, that will be a past-tense statement.
The tile is in my kitchen. The grout will be sealed tomorrow. And I will have my kitchen back Friday. Amen!
Somebody remind me to get my gas turned back on so I can cook.
Maybe wait until I have my hood before that reminder, however.
By tomorrow, I will have all of my lighting ready to be hung. I will have the crappy—pun intended (forgive me)—toilet removed and the last of the built-in benches removed. In theory the second bar should be moved by day’s end as well, but I am starting to doubt that.
I ‘accidentally’ left Boston in the juke box. I randomly hit numbers and accidentally played said CD. I ‘accidentally’ liked it.
Notice the quotes.
Star bar, week four