Where's Steve??

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Was constipated. Also had to supervise the guys installing the flooring."No, that's a defective board. You'll have to pull it out. Yes, you can cut it up and use the good parts.""No, that's not enough clearance from the wall. The floor will buckle when the wood absorbs enough moisture. Get the hammer and chisel.""There's a bad board 20 ranks deep? Yes, that is a problem. No, it's not normal wood variation, it's a bad board. Yes, you'll have to figure out a way to fix it.""Eh, please don't cut cork (underlayment) on top of the phone wire.""(Whack!) Uh, please don't hit the dining area light with that board." I swear, the fixture was spinning like a washing machine for the next 5 minutes."Nooooo...my new paint job!" It's OK...today I bought some drywall tape and joint compound. And I have brushes and rollers and fruit bats and plenty of pain[t]. Uh, no fruit bats."Yeah, why don't you give that board another whack so it really get's seated? Again. Again. Again.""You still haven't finished the closets? OK, I'll leave all my stuff in the bathtub." (Note to self: Buy some cologne.)"The phone's ringing. I'll just climb over this gigantic mountain of scrapped carpet to get to it. Hello? Hello? I can't hear you. Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Hello? Yo, it's for you."Then some security-conscious tenant blocks the contractor crew chief from coming into the garage. I guess some folks don't want pickup-driving Latin guys in their building. ("OK, I understand. Please let him in. OK, I understand. Please let him in. Yes, I live here. OK, I understand. Please let him in. Do you live here? Me too. OK, I get it. Please let him in.)"So....why am I 55 square feet short on boards? You don't know? OK..."I shouldn't complain. At least these guys showed up.Now, if I can just get the furniture back in place tomorrow without scratching up the floor...

In reply to:"So....why am I 55 square feet short on boards? You don't know? OK..."I knew I'd wind up paying for this in time and inconvenience. The crew chief said he'd be here this morning with the rest of the materials. I kept trying to get him to come earlier, and he kept agreeing just to shut me up. He said, "You'll be there, right?" "Sure", I said. Everyone kept their clothes on, and he took away the two board bangers...but not the great piles of scrap carpet.Now it's today, and I'm waiting and waiting and posting and waiting and posting some more, but nobody shows up. Finally, the guy shows up at 3 o'clock with two more boxes of boards and lots of baseboard (but no transitions...those are the molding thingies that separate rooms, etc.). I told him I was waiting for him all day...why didn't he call me? He said, "I know." Well I knew he knew. I wanted him to say, "Sorry, if it happens again, I'll call." He brought his female significant other. She was helping him carry stuff. Her method of helping involved smashing into the walls and everything else in her path with a bundle of 3 1/4" primed pine baseboards. And of course the dining table light couldn't go unaccosted. He whacked it with a box of floorboards.All in all it's been a great success. Because down here, if a contactor actually shows up at all, you're way ahead of the game. I called an electrician Thursday and he said he couldn't come Friday because his car was being repaired (me thinking, should I offer him a ride?). so he'd come Monday. Never saw the guy. And my heat pump (the one that was replaced less than a year ago, and put back on the 34-year-old 2x4's that were there) doesn't do heat. So far the mechanic is batting 0 for 3 in showing up. They're probably waiting for the warranty to expire.I could never figure up why building contractor folks are not part of the wonderful American service economy. Don't they like to make money? Or do they just totally overbook, then deal with their best customers first, and everyone else, whenever?

They finished the floor yesterday, and my week-long ordeal is finished...or is it?The Nicaraguan guy (the installation subcontractor to the flooring company) was here Friday, because his undocumented guys were working on another big (super high-end fancy) job. They were planning to finish in two days, but since I preferred that they actually do the job right, it took four. And in the middle the killed a day getting me the two boxes of boards they shorted me so they could finish the job.The Mexican guy did a good job on the floor, but a so-so job on the baseboards, thus requiring a lot of caulk to hide the slop. The Nicuraguan guy did a masterful job of cutting. Unfortuantely he brough his wife to help with the caulking. There was some sloppy caulking going on. I tried to show them the trick I learned from a carpenter (not Jesus), of caulking the joint before nailing the board. The wife was impressed, but the guy thought I was quite insane. I'm sure that's what Jesus would have done, though. The problem is that once the boards are nailed up, it's hard to get the caulk into the joints.So the guy ran out of caulk, and I went to the Ace hardware, and they have lots of caulk, but only a display tube of the acrylic latex painter's caulk I want. So I brought back the one tube, and the guy ran out before he got to the last closet.Then two doors won't fit over the new floor. "I spoke to the company, and they said that fixing the doors is not in you contract. I have to fix it myself." "OK, how much?" "$25" "The closet door has a problem." "How much for that one?" "$25"After that: "They didn't tell us we had to move furniture around." "OK, how much?" "$200" "How about $100?" I gave him $50 on top of that to help me move the furniture back in place at the end. Then I gave him a $40 tip. He did OK.Now I'm off to Home Depot to get the materials to finish the job. Sigh.The cool thing is that I showed him my contract/invoice, and he realized how hosed he's getting by the flooring company. Yes sir, must stir pot.

I really don't understand this shit. I spent many years as a contractor and my quote was the law! I guess the reason I'm not a millionare is that I'm too honest

As a building contractor? They're like used car salesmen, but not quite as honest. And they're just a little harder to deal with than Mafia hit men.

And in South Florida it's even worse. If you can get to actually show up, or finish the job without disappearing (usually to another job) for long periods while you're living in a half torn apart house, you're in pretty good shape. And if you're really anal about the quality of the work, good luck finding a craftsman. They exist, but they're rare jewels.

I've always been a rare jewel, or so I'm told

Then you must cut boards with great precision.

Potential celebrity sighting: After going to the bank to order more checks, I popped into the gym to work on my upper body buffness, and I saw a certain former pro tennis player on the elliptical trainer. I sat behind her on the machine with the weights that you somehow push up with your arms, and I was checking out her small-of-the-back tattoo. I counted the points on the elaborate drawing.I just found some pictures of the tattoo in question, and it seems to match. I'll have to ask the gym manager guy if a certain former tennis player (who lives maybe a mile to the north) is a member.

God was upset with Onan, but for more complex reasons than, er, spilling his seed on the ground.

Footnote: Er is Onan's wicked brother (both were son's of Judah). Er was wicked, so God killed him. God then wanted Onan to be fruitful with Er's widow; he pulled out before spilling his seed into her, thus further angering God. It was becoming increasingly clear to God that his creation was peopled with screwups. I wonder why he didn't just focus more on the orangutans and fruit bats.

HG 21: "And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats, and . . . "

Today I was at the Home Depot, where I spend half my life, buying tools and materials for the house, and I came across one of the orange-aproned guys giving bad advice to some guy who was trying to figure out how to plug in a small electric range-top. There was a lack of understanding of 15 versus 20 amp 110-volt service, and the type of plug and socket used for each (they thought the "funny" one was a 220-volt plug). "Just cut off the plug and stick on a regular one" Gack. I had to step in and lecture them on the electrical code, and not to, under any circumstances, cut off the proper plug.Thank you, A2A, for helping me become the didactic pedant that I am.

Well as long as you didn't tell him to bend over you're fine.

Wow, you guys must be really promiscuous. I'm saving myself for a woman with a contractor's license.Hopefully I helped that guy not have his house burn down from doing the wrong thing to his appliance wiring. Never ask the guy in the orange smock techincal questions about wiring.I did forget to wear a belt yesterday, so I did have the butt crack thing going on when I bent over, and I did have a tape measure hanging from my pocket...some guy buying paint at the paint counter asked me if I was a painter. He wanted to know how much paint he needed. I told him he'd need more than he thought he needed. Some things are just always true.

In reply to: All this talk about marijuana...how do you know I'm not the head of the FBI? Or the FBI head? sure steve sure... smile 'n' nod.. smile 'n' nod..LOL

In reply to: Now, if I can just get the furniture back in place tomorrow without scratching up the floor... u got that stuff in yet. and how the conversation get onto onan and god... im too lazy to understand

God was upset with Onan because he moved his brother's holy furniture in a way that displeased God.