[163] Screed City

[163]

07/12/2022. Tuesday. Kitchen Cardboard Box. Hampshire House. Portland, Maine.

Well, the writer's dilemma. I should work on the fiction thing tonight, but the placing is wrong. I need Vermont vibes, but then again, I did a screed thing last night, and I worry about inundation. However, it has been a pretty wild day full of details, so what do you do? By the fact that you are reading this, I think you know what I chose. I mean, unless you have one of those suspension of disbelief things that keep you from delineating between what you are reading or witnessing and your own thoughts. If that's true, that's pretty cool. I would read more if I could do that. As it is, I kind of just get frustrated and knocked out of the narrative, over and over again until I give up.

I mean, this morning was chaos. Last night was choas. I laid down to get some shut eye, it was not the best of beds I found myself in. I mean, I made a bad choice. I blew up the air mattress. It was in the shape of a coffin. I mean, when I saw that, I should have known better. But I did not know better. Not that the coffin shape was some portense or something, it's just that I knew my arms would be doing weird things all night. I don't sleep like a corpse. I am more of a flailing limbs kind of guy. I mean, I got to sleep at and early hour, and then was rudely awakened by the stomping run of a toddler above the room I was in. And instead of being like "Shut that damn kid up!" I had a flashback to G being that young. And not wanting to go to bed at such a late hour. And I felt sorry for the parents. I mean, I made a lot of assumptions getting to that conclusion, but I did get there. Then I was up. My arms two inches below my torso. I mean, I tried about a million different positions, they all sucked. Eventually I guess I just fell asleep. For a while. Then I was up again. Trying to get my chakra aligned. I mean, I even let some air out of the mattress. That helped a little. And then I woke up at 2a to take a leak. At that point I ditched the air mattress altogether in favor of the weird pad and the carpet. After that I slept so well that I found it hard to get up when my 6a alarm went off. I mean, I hit snooze once. Nine minutes later I forced myself out of bed.

I mean, the morning routine I am used to was not this thing. Although I was not in such bad shape. I had a little bit of coffee left over from yesterday that I drank while I figured shit out. I mean, I somehow had left the coffee mug at Brother Luke's. Which caused and issue. I mean, an issue solved by a new development. I mean, I just put the pour-over coffee thing on top of my travel mug. Which worked great. A little messy, but luckily there are paper towels here. I mean, I ran some water through the coffee machine I bought and used the hot water to make some tasty fresh coffee. I listened to some news stuff, checked electronic mails et cetera, et al. And then it was time to take a shower. And my heart sank a little. I could not find the towel. I even went out to the car looking for it. Nothing doing. I went back inside and did what anyone would do, I took a dirty t-shirt and my hoodie into the bathroom. I put the t-shirt on the floor for like a bath mat, and I was going to use the hoodie as a towel like I was fucking 20 again. I mean, the shower water came out tepid and loud and hard, making a mess of everything. The shower curtain I bought combined with the shower design made for a less than ideal situation. The roll of toilet paper on top of the toilet got soaked. I mean, everything that was not in front of the shower curtain got soaked. I made quick use of the thing and got out. The hoodie was about as absorbent as a door mat. And slightly less scratchy. I mean, I put my pants back on, still wet, my hair dripping. I mean, the t-shirt did a pretty good job, surprisingly. I mean, the bottoms of my feet were dry at least. I went into the kitchen, put a fresh t-shirt on. Stood there standing up putting my socks on. I mean, that sentence seems redundant, but really, there was nowhere to sit. It was either that or sit on the floor, which I was not going to do. I mean, I got my socks on okay, my boots on okay. I put my hat on to keep my wet hair in check. I mean, I felt as dirty as I did before the shower, but at least I tried, right? My butt and pits and danglers and feet were clean enough. My face. I mean, I wish I had washed my hair last weekend. The golden flowing locks are getting long now. I mean, I told G I was thinking about growing it out. They said they liked the idea. I mean, G has entered that phase of teenager vibe that they fuck with me to see if I am paying attention, so who knows, they may have been fucking with me, but still, I could maybe go for a long locks look for the Fall, why not? Right?

I mean, I did some more stuff. Getting ready. I put my charger and some gloves and two GF Cubby Bubbys, and my high viz vest, and my water bottle into a reusable shopping bag. I drank some coffee, waiting for the time to leave. I mean, I remembered I had to do the Donkeys [Italics,] so I did those. It didn't take very long. There was only 39 of them to do. Just putting labels on them and postage. I mean, it was a little more involved than that, but the job was simple. It only took about 10 minutes. I mean, I solved a mystery about it. I had 40 Donkeys [Italics] for some reason. But only needed 39. Turns out I grabbed an extra Part 4. Which was good. I was worried that I fucked the whole thing up. But I didn't. I mean, I fucked something up at some point where my label system is not the best, but at the same time I have to read the labels anyway and cross-reference them with the list anyway. So. I mean, shit, I need to go back and make note of this new delivery. Remind me to do that when I am done with this, would ya?

I mean, at some point in the morning I found myself taking a quiz on Buzzfeed about state slogans when I noticed I needed to leave. I brushed my teeth a second time and hit the skids.

The drive to Brother Luke's was uneventful. I did see quite a few joggers. I mean, Portland reminds me of Seattle sometimes. Lakes and ocean and houses and people. Peaceful, fun for youngsters, even the oldsters get into it. Progressive, with some seedy underbelly of something almost Right leaning. Like the disparity between the rich and the poor is pretty bad. Housing and such. Lots of unhoused people holding signs begging for change and then you see all the joggers jogging before going to work, and the beauty, and you wonder how things got this way. And the answer of course is Capitalism and money. But what can you do when you got to get the job done?

I mean, I pulled in front of BL's house and called him. He said he was heading down and did I know I forgot the coffee mug? I told him I forgot the towel as well. And then he came outside. Got in the car. His car. That I was driving. Then he said: "Maybe I should grab that stuff for you in case we split ways later." Which means, we were going to be splitting ways later and I should have brought that stuff. I waited for him to run inside. Take his shoes off, run up the stairs, grab the stuff, come back down the stairs, put his shoes on, tie them, and come back out. I mean, if he was me, or if I was him, a person that has a no-shoe policy in the house, I would get myself some of the slip-on boots I wear. Or some Velcro’s. I mean, tying your shoes? In this economy?

I mean, we drove to the Brewery. Parked. We talked about things to do for the day. What was most pressing. There was the shade things for the work thing that happens on Thursday. And the bathrooms and Merch Room adjustments. And the caulking the Tasting Room tap drainage. I mean, the list is long and there is lots to do. And the only thing to do about it was to go to work and do it. I started out by figuring out how to deal with the tap drainage. I needed to remove some old caulk and elevate the drain just enough to let it air out underneath and dry. Which, to my credit, I outsmarted myself. I mean, last Spring? When I did part of this job that was now a problem, that, I mean, I didn't cause it, but we were in a very harried state to get it done, some choices were made that everyone knew would not be long term. So now I was dealing with that fallout. I mean, I was able to loosen the bolts that held the basin down, pry the thing up with a little crow bar, and then I put three washers in the middle of the thing, which is about three feet long, and then I had about a quarter inch of space to clean out the old caulk, run some paper towels around. Get a couple fans going, and really do a good job. No! A great job. But as things would happen, my job did not end up great. It ended up kind of okay. For reasons beyond my control. More on this shortly.

After that I had to get some lumber and the chop saw over to the Merch Room. Which was harder than it seems. I mean, the Brewery is huge. There are three different buildings. Soon to be four. Basically an 1/8th of a mile in-between them. So a simple task of getting a chop saw and some lumber from Engineering to the Merch Room is a 20 minute job. And woe betide you if you forget something. A 10 minute walk ensues. I mean, and to have four different projects in four different spaces. All of which having different urgencies? And timings? Like, one second you are working on something and suddenly you have to stop so a meeting can happen, or the ice cream truck shows up, or a tour, or whatever, so you go work on the the other thing, and then that gets put to the side so you go work on the other thing, and all the time you have tools here, or there, or hardware, here or there, or whatever, and it's hot outside, but cool inside, and the sun is blaring here, or the sound is really loud here, or there are people in the way, or you have to make sure people know you are going to make noise, and some things can't get dirty, and some things can't be done at this moment, I mean, I have been doing this for a few weeks now, but I don't know how my brother does it. It has been this kind of headache for years for him. And the Brewery is expanding, so it is not getting easier, it is getting harder. I mean, I really don't know how he does it.

I mean, I started working on doing some visual masking in the Merch Room. Which was pretty easy. I was cutting one by to nail onto the face of where this plywood meets some pine one by. I mean, the task was incredibly easy. I just needed to cut some of those "Slats" I got at the fencing store down. Meaning, I measured a few times, then cut the board. Then put it where it needed to go. But that got very complicated very fast because once I started doing it, and the people in charge saw how good it looked, suddenly the job went from doing that, to moving the shelving. Which, I mean, the answer is yes, it always is, but this hour, maybe two hour job is now a half-day at least. Maybe more. I mean, as an experienced, um, person who does things, the simple idea that you think is a simple idea is not a simple idea at all. My brain did about a thousand calculations as my brother was saying yes to this project, and I didn't have it in me to tell him that it was going to be cutting it pretty close if he actually wants the thing to be done by Friday. I mean, it took me 30 minutes just to get the chop saw over to the place. And I used Ole to get it for me. And now I am doing complex carpentry, which is fine, but as far as I know, the Merch Room is going to be open again on Thursday. Meaning, if we don't get this done tomorrow, I don't know what will happen. I mean, the job is do-able, ATBMS, but not if I also have to finish all this other crap too.

I mean, I had to drop that project to go deal with the shade poles I was installing. I mean, I spent about an hour drilling holes in this flange, then installing it, and because it was cheap and useless it broke, so I had to do the job a second time, but because I had brought the Allen Keys over to the Tasting Room I had to go get it, because the drill press was having a problem, and I needed to adjust some things, and that meant taking a 10 minute walk before I could do a five minute job. And then when I was finally done, I had to make sure the flange fit on the one inch tubing's threads, which it didn't, because of how things work, the goods got damaged in the process, and not only that, but the new flange didn't like the old anchor points, so I had to be very, very clever about getting the thing installed. And I won't lie, I did it. I really didn't think I would be able to. I thought for sure I was going to have to drop new anchors, but I did the whole college thing, ATBMS, and by sheer force of will, I put that fucking 10 foot pole into the ground.

I mean, at that point there were meetings. I need Ole to get the scissors lift over to the picnic table area. But he had to go to a meeting first. So I decided to finish the caulking project, which needed to be done today so it had enough time to off-gas. I mean, I had a very specific idea about how to do it. But in the meantime my original caulk had been replaced with a new caulk. Which, I mean, if you know construction at all, you will feel for me at this moment. Because the caulk I was going to use was water soluble. And the second caulk was not. And, it's not like I didn't notice, I just didn't think for a second that something like that would happen. I mean, it is like if someone told you to paint something, you said, okay, I will prepare to paint something. Then they handed you a can of latex paint, and you said, okay, I am going to prepare to paint latex, and then they said, hold on, let me give you this other paint. It's a better color or whatever. And if in the middle of this transfer the information gets lost, and you don't imagine in a million years that you were given a gallon of oil-paint. But you start painting with the oil-paint, and as you are doing so, like all paint jobs, there is a little splash of paint here, or there, and you, thinking you are using latex paint, you go to wipe it up with your wet rag or whatever, but as you are doing so, you realize that the type of paint that you thought it was is not the type of paint at all! And then there you are, holding a brush covered in oil-paint. The splashes can't be cleaned up with water, you need solvent, and not only that, but it is one million degrees so your paint is drying fast as shit, so what do you do? You drop everything to go get some mineral spirits and a rag and by the time you get back your paint job is already mostly ruined, but you have to keep going otherwise shit is fucked, so you are making one bad decision after another, like it is all damage control, I mean, it was like that, but with caulk.

I mean, all I can say is that my fantastic job I did with the shitty flanges disappeared because of my terrible job I did with the caulking. I mean, I do think I did a great job by lifting the basin up and caulking under the rim, but at the same time, that was something else as well, I just had the wrong tools. And everything was drying so fast. And all the tools I needed were so far away. I mean, I really do mean, that hopefully the caulk job I did was good in a way that means the basin won't leak anymore. I mean, it just doesn't look the best. And then again, when I am tasked with this same job in six months, I will remember my lesson and I won't let the other jobs I am doing distract me.

I mean, by the time I got over to the pole business again, the scissors lift was there, but Ole was long gone. I mean, I was okay with that. I mean, sure, I could have done a better job with the caulking, but that job is a thankless task. It always will be. Meeting stainless steel with other stainless steel. You are never going to win unless you weld it somehow. If that is even possible. I mean, it must be possible because those things are welded, but you catch my drift, right? I mean, you can't put chewing gum between two pieces of metal and expect it to look like welding, right? Even if you have clear chewing gum. Or metal flavored.

I mean, I spent about five minutes trying to get the scissors lift to work. I was listening to the Jan 6 hearings, so I was very entertained. Those fuckers, holy shit. What the fuck? I mean, I knew it was bad, but they really did try to do it. It looked like an accident, but it was no accident. They plotted a fucking coup. And it almost fucking worked. I mean, the fact that we are relying on the same fuckers that staged the coup to save us from the next coup? Just fucking vote! It is all we have. Everybody. Vote like the wind!

I mean, this scissors lift, it is from the 90's I think. There is a two part system. One for driving and one for lifting. Which! I don't even remember using such an ancient machine. I mean, it is smart enough. There is a button on the side that you push and then a toggle that you use to go up and down. Which means it is basically a Genie combined with a scissors lift. But I couldn't figure it out. I thought for certain the joystick would be involved with going up and down. But I was very wrong. I mean, either way, Brother Luke came around at the right time to help me do some rigging. I mean, he showed me how it worked. After that we spent a couple hours rigging some shades above the picnic tables. They looked like G-string panties. And in the end, Brother Luke had to go out into the woods in order to keep the poles from bending into the building. I mean, we used a very large shackle, connected to a less than very large shackle connected to a fall point that was on the roof for reasons of safety to tie 3/4 inch hemp-like rope to each pole. Then we used what Brother Luke called a Prusik knot, but was probably more of a Distel hitch with opposing tags, I mean, what the hell do I know, I mean, I only know that thing as the knot that can hold a rope good. If there is not too much tension. I mean, either way, Brother Luke had to go out into the woods to keep the poles from bending in, and he is probably covered in ticks as we speak. I mean, we got most of the work done. He had to ditch to go hang out with his family, the loser. And I putted around for another 30 minutes getting heckled by Brewery workers who were having their "Shift Drink" which seemed like more than one of them. I mean, eventually everyone was gone and I finished the job. And then I had to drive the scissors lift over to Building 100 because they needed it next. I mean, at that point I plugged it in. Got out. Went and checked on the caulk job. Remembered I needed to clean up the Merch Room job. And then clean up the caulk job. I mean, at this point I was exhausted. I mean, all these jobs, aside from the pole job and the caulk job, I will have to start again in the morning. I mean, the outdoor job, that I haven't even mentioned, which is the reason I am here in the first place, it is very back burner now. Which is fine. I could use the work, the money, but tomorrow is going to be as much chaos as today was. And not only that, but I have to pick BL up at 7a. Which means getting up at 5:30a. And then we are supposed to fix the brakes on Junior Mint after work. I mean, and then it will be Thursday. AND, I need to take the guy to get an oil change after work, and then it will be Friday and I will have to get on the road kind of early to get back to Vermont to do the Farmers Market. And then on Sunday I will have to bake like the wind for the next weekend, and then get on the road at 6a on Monday to come back here. I mean, and all this time sleeping on carpet, with lousy shower curtains and t-shirts for bath mats. But alas! I do have a towel now, and hopefully I don't need to get gone from this place Friday morning. Otherwise, that will be a late night into an early morning, followed by work and then a three and a half hour hell drive.

Life is hard, man. Get a job at a school. Like Junior Bower did. The hours are predictable and the work is recession proof.

[Insert The Triple Lindy]