Flashback
I don’t know that I’ll know how to just BE in the room, if and when it is judged to be done (which will have to be by more objective observers). It has become so much The Project for me, such that its needing doing now seems sufficient reason just for its being.
I’m not averse to being finished, mind you, but there is a perverse sense of jealousy about sharing it incomplete, when a sense of done finally seems a tangible possibility. On our recent 10th anniversary, Tricia suggested inviting Mike and Diane over for a quick impromptu drink to help celebrate. Now, Mike has been there since the room’s birth, right through its Terrible Twos, gradeschool eagerness, highschool daze, and young adult flightiness. But Diane has only seen pictures thus far, and I found myself not ready to share it with someone thus removed until the room was in its wedding dress and poised on the aisle. Especially not someone about whose reaction I care.
My thought process might be somewhat informed by my subsequent reaction to Tricia talking me into installing the stereo this weekend. I had long imagined the first bars of Tori Amos’ most excellent “Scarlett’s Walk” CD wafting into the finished room — a major carrot. But here I was being asked to eat that carrot before journey’s end. With lighting installed and cabinetry all but finished, there are few enough such carrots left that I am loathe to relinquish their distance. They drive me to finish the more mundane details. And unveiling the room to close friends is perhaps the juiciest of them left.
This last weekend Mike volunteered a few hours time helping me work on the deck, the old familiar friends-with-toolbelts relationship at least temporarily supplanting the employer/contractor one. Not much was said, but we whiled away quite productively, our shoulders against separate wheels, but driving the same wagon. Much progress was made. Having arrived about 1:00, Mike finally cleaned up, packed up, and shoved off about 6:00. I continued putting stuff away awhile longer, and then, rather than try slopping sealer on in the dark, I chose to erect some tarps against forecast precipitation. And Isabel but days away…………….
Tarps……………. While many fond associations linger — our annual Maine camping trip is less than a month away, after all — I was not happy to see them back on site. It had been many months since they were last required. But after showering and having dinner, I looked out at the deck and had a thought:
Mike has grumbled and tried to cajole a blog entry out of me for some time. Perhaps he wanted other than a room update (I’m sure others would have), but I thought to try. But what to say? What to show? The room’s in its lacy underwear, putting on makeup, the smell of perfume in the air. An indecent time to publish voyeuristic peeks into the chamber. But I realized I could show the day’s progress and not show anything of the interior, with a night flash shot and the right angle. And given the tarps, I could even be somewhat coy about the deck itself…………… So perverse or not, I offer the above text and the following photo as sacrifice at the altar of Mike’s blog:
The World’s Smallest Deck awaiting railings and sealer.
I have my own flashback. I wrote this two weeks into the job:
I’ve decided to dispense with my Day One, Day Two, etc., titles for three reasons. First, it sounds too much like the Iranian hostage crisis, so it’s been done before, only more dramatically. Secondly, I can’t keep this up on a daily basis, there will be gaps, large ones I expect, and the third reason is tied to the second. How will Adam and Tricia feel when they see Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Two?
Boy was that funny when I wrote it. Thank the merciful god above that Adam took it upon himself to finish this job. If he hadn’t I might be eating those words right now…monitor and all. And because he is doing the finish, I can walk in and see only the fine craftmanship, of which there is plenty.
BTW, Tricia caught me taking photographs the other day, and warned me not to post them. I surely won’t, but if anyone is really interested all they have to do is email me.
Scarlet’s Walk
The record’s climactic tour de force is Scarlet’s Walk, a sÈance-style spin through the Gothic South, its title evoking both the deaths of American Indians on the Trail of Tears and Gone With the Wind’s homesick heroine. All organs, horns, and echoing drums, the song wraps Amos in layers of down-home creepiness. A man with a badge asks her: “What do you plan to do with all your stories?” She tells him she plans to bury them with all the other legends, wisdom, and “medicines” squandered throughout America’s history, then stretches the word terra–signifying both Scarlett O’Hara’s ruined estate and all that blood-soaked, hallowed earth–into a little earthquake.
— Will Hermes, Spin Magazine, Nov 2002
leaving terra
leaving terra
if you’re a thought
you will want me
to think you
and I did
invite a Guest
up until you announced
that
you had moved in
“what do you plan to do
with all your freedom?”
the new sheriff said,
quite proud of his
Badge
“you must admit the Land is now
in good hands”
yes, time will tell that
you just life your lamp
I will follow
Her on her path
Scarlet’s Walk
through the voilets
just tell your
Gods for me
all debts are off this year
they’re free to leave
yes they’re free
to leave
leaving terra
leaving terra
there was a time
when i thought that
Her destiny
should’ve been
mine
Big Brave Nation
but instead her Medicine
now forgotten
“what do you plan to do
with all your stories”
the new sheriff said,
quite proud of his Badge
we’ll weave them through
every
rocket’s red glare
and
huddled masses
you just lift your lamp
I will follow
Her on her path
Scarlet’s Walk
through the violets
just tell your
Gods for me
all debts are off this year
they’re free to leave
yes they’re free
to leave
leaving terra
leaving terra
if you’re a thought
you will want me
to think you
and I did
and I did
Comment by Acid Reflux — September 16, 2003 @ 7:22 pm
Now THAT’s what I call a response! Builds off the base, adds new, contributes by digression, and corrects typos in and of itself without pointing them out. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts (and a darn good thing, too………).
Comment by scarlet — September 16, 2003 @ 7:36 pm
Tricia is a good partner to stop Michael in his tracks.
We look forward to the unveiling and will celebrate with a drink in the middle of your creation.
Thanks for posting, Adam.
Comment by Waiting — September 16, 2003 @ 7:46 pm
Intriguing view of the World’s Smallest Swaddled Deck.
Comment by Molecule — September 16, 2003 @ 7:56 pm
On Adam’s posting: I’d heard Mike say that you were identified with your creation, but not until reading your own words did I realize you’ve anthropomorphized her. Is Tricia just a bit jealous? Your prose *does* make me want to meet her! I’ll be sure to bring my magnifying glass.
On smallest deck: Since we all read that apparently size does matter, maybe you could try adding a little viagra to the sealant?
On yourtitle: What was the flashback?
Comment by Yahoo — September 17, 2003 @ 7:46 am
It may be small, but it’s gorgeous. Thankfully, “she” was wearing her good underwear@!!!
Comment by Jan Q — September 17, 2003 @ 8:13 am
Not until I started stringing out the room’s “ages” did I notice that myself. I think it was more that I was taken by the literary device than that I intended to evoke a dependency….. No, Tricia’s not jealous — of the time, maybe, but not of the room. It’s a joint creation in all senses.
And no Viagra — it’s bigger than what Tricia wanted in the first place………
The flashback — tarps.
Comment by unaware — September 17, 2003 @ 8:16 am
And a mighty seductive literary device that was Adam.
And a good double-entendre come-back on the viagra comment (dumb but couldn;t resist).
And “tarps” was what I figure the flasback had to be…
btw, Yahoo es Daniel…no me reconosiste?
Comment by Yahoo — September 18, 2003 @ 7:23 am
Pues no, o hubiera respondido mas en forma (mas palabras y menos errores tipograficos que normal para que sea mi buen amigo Daniel…….). ; >)
Comment by tonto — September 18, 2003 @ 8:13 am
A story in yesterday’s newspaper detailed the exploits of a bear on some woman’s deck. When I read it, visions of a big panda trying to make her way up Adam and Trish’s spiral staicase to the world’s smallest deck danced around in my head. I then wondered what would happen if some of us who have followed this project nail by nail but still have not seen THE ROOM simply came over, climbed the windy steps, ripped off the tarps, and peered in the glass door. Perhaps we’ll find out!
Comment by TianTian — September 18, 2003 @ 1:37 pm
Just try it! The first step’s way not code, and now the ground is mined.
Kudos on the Latin, BTW. Feels like a lovely name for the beast, though I can’t quite parse it — “feathered/winged-footed beast w/ black/white head”………….?
Comment by humbled — September 18, 2003 @ 2:57 pm
Ailuropeda — cat-footed
melanoleuca — black white
Scientific name for ___________. (my name is the clue)
Comment by TianTian — September 18, 2003 @ 3:28 pm
I knew giant panda already (and the name’s a great clue!), but I was thinking “ailuro” like “aileron” or other “wing”-words…… (but which have an “e” in place of the “u”, I now realize…….). Thanks!
Comment by edified — September 18, 2003 @ 9:54 pm
Are there no more virgins?
Comment by Wondering — September 19, 2003 @ 8:12 am
There are a few, but were you inquiring about Latin virgins or Greek virgins?
Comment by BVM — September 19, 2003 @ 8:59 am
So much for my modest attempt to derail the previous thread.
Comment by MVB — September 19, 2003 @ 9:16 am
You’re not saying these taxonomic word roots are Latin……….? “Melano” and “leuco” (orig. leuko) are certainly Greek, and while “ped” IS Latin, the Greek “pod” or “podi” are close — can one combine? Apparently so……..
Comment by reedified — September 19, 2003 @ 9:22 am
This time I read beyond the paragraphs beginning and ending with Mike and I agree with Dan, Tricia should be jealous.
I do love the metaphor.
But remember this: Robert warned us to “Be careful about what you read into other’s writings. But, be open to the many meanings of what you write.”
Comment by Mike — September 21, 2003 @ 7:23 pm