Monday, December 21, 2009

Dive Bar: Day 5 and Beyond...

It seems facebook has updated their blog import capabilities to accept jpg's, unbeknownst to me, so I'm re-importing Disparate Thought.

I know it's been a few days since I've updated our dive bar construction, but I have been busy being arguably the best uncle in the world to a nephew trying to overcome a faux-macroglossia disorder:


And putting in 10-hr days in 0-degree F weather:

The bar has been going pretty well when we've had a chance to work on it and one of the main issues has been reaching that critical level of blood-alcohol concentration where productivity is no longer a function of intoxication. The last pic is where we left off tonight.



Next Steps:
1) Measure and cut trim.
2) Paint and apply trim.
3) Install glass blocks.
4) Sand bar top.
5) Figure out how the hell to use a router and make a decorative edge for the bar top.
6) Install bar top.
7) Touch up paint.
8) Install bar prep covering (laminate, tile, sheet metal)
9) Install bar top covering (laminate, tile, sheet metal??)
10) Install interior shelving/wracks
11) Paint cabinet area/Install shelving/wracks
12) Install bar and cabinet lighting (rope lights?)
13) Buy new bar stools
14) Stock bar with all sorts of expensive wines and scotches
15) Site at The Dive bar and drink copious amounts of High Life

PostS: The premise of The Dive Bar is actually a crappy piece of modern art that did not cost shit to construct. Here is the current and projected breakdown of costs for what actually went into the bar:

Dresser: $12
Lumber: $40
Trim: $12
Paint: $30
Glass Blocks: Free
Bar Stools: Free (Indirect Christmas Gifts)
Lights: $25
High Life 24-pack bottles: $12
---------------------------
Total: $ 131

It's not done yet, but I promise when it is: PARRRRRRRRTTTYYYYY

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Dive Bar: Day 3 and 4

Who knew using an orbital sander would produce an inordinate amount of respirable particulate matter. The result:



Only thing, when you live with a beautiful wonderfly hygienic young woman, said woman typically frowns upon performing aforementioned videographic actions. The result:

So after Sahar got done waterboarding me, we were finally ready to begin Day 3: Construction Of A Dive Bar To Facilitate The Consumption Of At Least Fifteen Ice-Cold Golden High-Lives In One Sitting In What Is Now A Bar Room As Dusty As John Steinbeck's Imagination.

Day 3 did not start very Jamba Juicish. My circular hand saw jammed and it took me three hours to take it a part and go in from behind (Sahar seriously, get your mind out of the gutter) and fix it. Without this boost in my ingenuitous confidence, I probably would have quit after I had to figure out why all of my screw-heads were stripping. Who the fuck knew I had to pre-drill "pilot holes" to screw? Since I wasn't using the correct pilot-hole bit and just a regular drill bit, I really had to apply aggressive pressure when I was screwing because the hole was pretty small.

First things first: Frame

Did I mention I'm not using any plans other than what my savant mind contains?

Hmmm... ok.. I guess I can start to see how this is going to work.

Day 4: Come To Find Out, It's Just As Easy To Drink At An Incomplete Homemade Bar...

Back side...



So it's coming along slightly better than I thought. There's probably going to be excessive use of trim to cover some small gaps due to shitty sawing, uneven edges, an uneven floor and an ancient uneven dresser. Still, I assure you your beer will NOT fall off the bar top once it's done!


Night

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Dive Bar: Day 2

I'm getting really antsy to sit at my own bar in the dark, pounding High Life's (shouldn't it be High Lives?) until I thoroughly resent everyone who is more successful and has more hair than I do. Can't this lead paint remove itself? Scraping is NOT the way to go...

Unfortunately, apartment dwellers don't really need power tools so we had to hit up the Depot and rent an orbital sander. The ironic thing was that we got this at Sahar's insistence, yet I was the one who ended up with the forearms of a 14-year old who just went on a sick-day vhs porn bender. (I never actually did this though. Prove I did). Like pounding High Live's, it wasn't a quick fix, but it did the trick.




Sunday, December 6, 2009

Dive Bar: Day 1

There's something therapeutic and fulfilling - working with your hands - constructing a form from nondescript pieces into a finished product whose essence is defined by the "sum of its parts." Creativity is the ability to rearrange pre existing thoughts, words, ideas, hardware, etc. into a new form whose meaning, quality and relevant worth is deeply and perpetually existential.

Fulfillment undoubtedly comes from positive reinforcement, but this recognition is only one component as true gratification comes from viewing your creation as the sole form in a formless world. There is no relativity to bring comparative meaning that too often robs us of a job well done, only the satisfaction that we - using our invaluable finite time - brought a new form into existence. Perhaps the most significant component of creative fulfillment comes from the acknowledgement that living beings can take away something positive from interaction with your creation.

There are no new ideas, just rearrangements of previously existing components. (Don't doubt me. I'll take you down to the molecular level if I have to).
Whether it's having a child, painting a canvas or building a house, find meaning through existentialism and your fulfillment will be far more significant.

Sahar and I built these bookshelves from an idea we saw on Apartment Therapy using plumbing supplies and wood boards. Simple in construction, but building something far more structurally sound, aesthetically pleasing and spatially effective than anything that can be purchased is a great accomplishment for two creative and carpentry beginners.

To keep the ball rolling with this new hobby, Sahar came up with the idea to turn an old dresser into a dry bar. We hope to accomplish one distinct goal from this project (aside from helping Aids patients by purchasing our dresser from Brown Elephant and all that existential fulfillment): To have a credible refuge for our moral-bending debauchery.

There is nothing sophisticated about playing full-beer flippy cup in a cold garage, drinking Tabasco-saturated cuervo shots, smoking on the roof, letting the cat out on the roof, trying to get the cat off the roof, falling off the roof and waking up the next morning in some shrubs after pissing myself. Now to clarify, I never actually did this, but had I performed these shenanigans with, next to and/or on my homemade bar, I'd go from this guy:







To these guys:






(This coincidentally is a tribute to my friend Brain).

Since Sahar and I have no former carpentry experience except Mr. Prusman's 7th Grade Shops class, we will only be using our critical thinking skills. So we're not quite sure how it will turn out, but I can promise you this: YOUR BEER IS GUARANTEED NOT TO SLIDE OFF THE TOP.


This will be the crux of our rehabbed dresser bar. I'm hoping this isn't lead paint.


Sahar attempting to scrape off years of other people's memories (and what I hope isn't lead paint). I'm sure you'll be fine Sahar. This is about where we left after Day 1 and were having the following thoughts:

  • Why did we start this?
  • I'm bored.
  • Can we hire an illegal and/or just buy a bar from Ikea?
  • Do we have beer?
  • Thank Jebus, we do have beer.
  • We have tequila too?! I quit. It's going to be a fun night.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Friday, December 4, 2009

Thought Stream...

...Last year when I lived in Canada for five months I befriended a middle-aged retired Navy diver and current explosive ordinance expert. We naturally gravitated toward each other as we were both intelligent, pragmatic Americans surrounded by a bunch of ex-Canadian military, most of whom were in their sixties, some of whom spoke mostly French, all of them ignorant bigots. As the months went by I made perhaps the most significant coming-of-age discovery through my new friend: As Ron Burgundy says, "I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly..."

Seriously, when you acquire a taste for scotch, you begin to taste the Elixir-of-the-God's, or Christ Juice as I like to call it. Does anyone else want to get down on their knees and start pleasing Jesus? Feel his salvation all over your face? (The entire clip is genius, but for relevant purposes, it's the 1:35 mark).







------------------


I realized I never formally wrote about my experiences in Iran or posted any pictures. (Or did I?). It was the most unique experience of my life, and for the first time ever, I felt what is was like to want to fight and possibly die for a cause. Of course after 9/11 I was pretty geared up, which most likely influenced my enlightening, yet short-stint in the military several years later. However, the problems with our ensuing police actions were 1) What the fuck did Colin Powell's ethereal UN presentation kicking off our unfortunate relationship with Iraq have to do with terrorist hijackers? 2) While I was deeply upset and infuriated - still am - at those terrorist attacks, the reality was that it did not directly influence my way of life. I still had college classes. I didn't lose my job. I could still drink underage. I didn't lose any freedoms.

The distinct difference came during my civilian tour in Iran when I experienced first-hand the horrors that accompany a totalitarian theocracy: An inability for men to wear shorts in public and much more severe the clothing requirements for woman. The censorship of literature, publications, the media, etc (ie. no freedom of speech). The accounts - and visual scars - from family members and friends who have been detained and beaten for talking with the opposite sex or drinking alcohol. The well-known accounts of the Basij (a militia group) raiding dorms and raping females and murdering both sexes. The blood-stained concrete where just a day ago a protester(s) of the government and elections were shot.

I could go on and I will when I decide to write about my experience, but my point is the difference between our war on terrorism and what I experienced in Iran is the difference between intangible and tangible. Terrorists are these ghosts that no one can see and rarely ever rear their heads in the civilized world, but something that 'should be feared at all times.' The situation in Iran is an ongoing oppression that is clear to anyone who enters. Now I'm not saying we shouldn't be doing something proactive about the aforementioned ghosts, but how do you fight a few bad apples among us all? There is no good answer... it's very difficult. However, my experience in Iran directly affected me and continues to affect many many good people who I care about dearly.



(A rarely addressed irony is that Iran is like a vacation in Del Boca Vista compared to the fucking travesty that is Saudi Arabia and many other Islamic nations).

---------------------------

Sahar just got home and per the norm the first words out of her mouth were -imagine the voice of an abusive Cinderella mouse, "Take your clothes off bitch!!" Then she grabbed my crotch and growled, "I own thisss." I can only cover these bruises for so long... Gotta love the Fridays though. Last Saturday we had rare after-party at our A.P.T. and like clockwork, Brain bought way more alcohol than was needed and now I will be drinking a bunch of his typical leftover Bud Lights.

Tomorrow we'll be attending an ugly sweater party, which is somewhat painful since it is like the most overused cliche amongst young professional Lincoln Park douche bags, but a lot of my friends will be there so I will swallow my pride and attend fully-wooled. (My young pro friends who live in Lincoln Park.. you aren't d-bags.. mostly).

Ok beer beer beer.


Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Bygones Be Here; I'll Just Leave

British gay roman-catholic libertarian conservative blogger Andrew Sullivan wrote a goodbye letter of sorts divesting himself of anything related to the current US Republican Party (ie. modern conservatism). While Mr. Sullivan's proclamation of homosexuality in conjunction with rigid Christian doctrine effectively robs himself of logical credibility, he nonetheless presents a passionate, succinct argument summarizing what is wrong with intellectual and empathetic stagnation.

A few of his quotes:

  • I cannot support a movement that claims to believe in limited government but backed an unlimited domestic and foreign policy presidency that assumed illegal, extra-constitutional dictatorial powers until forced by the system to return to the rule of law.
  • I cannot support a movement that exploded spending and borrowing and blames its successor for the debt.
  • I cannot support a movement that criminalizes private behavior in the war on drugs.
  • I cannot support a movement that holds that purely religious doctrine should govern civil political decisions and that uses the sacredness of religious faith for the pursuit of worldly power.

These are few of the many reasons why I am becoming increasingly militantly-progressive with a dash of libertarianism. For those of you who shiver at that thought, here is the classical definition of progressive:

Promoting or favoring progress toward better conditions or new policies, ideas, or methods

This pragmatic conclusion of mine is a result of one of the very few absolute truths in our shared reality: The earth on which we live is - for all intents and purposes - a closed system* with finite resources. The processes that take place within this closed system are composed of nonlinear dynamics and while natural processes might seek equilibrium, they are always in flux. Furthermore, our brains and the resulting thought processes are perhaps a level of magnitude more complicated and non-static than this closed system in which we reside.

So, we have this dynamic human condition within a relatively, ever-increasing claustrophobic closed system that is also dynamic. These two PERPETUALLY CHANGING factors have, over time, allowed for the creation of societies, economic and political systems. How is it logical for a dynamic, imperfect human to remain socially, economically and politically rigid amongst this never-ending storm? It's not.

One of the best pieces of advice I have been given is that if it's not broken, don't fix it. Unfortunately, sticking with the norm or being conservative in a changing system will only work with only work for so long. I'm not arguing for major changes within any of our current societal systems or foreign policy. I am saying that sometimes it's acceptable to admit that no matter what you know, you might be wrong. Sometimes it's ok to rise a tax for the common good. Sometimes it's ok to limit profits at the top to protect the entire system. Sometimes it's ok to tweak a policy here, remove a policy there and implement an all new policy that does not have a prior precedent. How about some of you stop speaking for a God that doesn't exist (or at least doesn't intervene... oh he does intervene? Tell that to the seven year old that was just raped and beheaded), stop speaking for a christ that is more compassionate and social oriented than you are and stop speaking for the intentions and religious orientation of our founding fathers despite your lack of historical knowledge. (If anything, they were mostly deists, if not agnostics. At the very least they were ardent secularists!!).

Factors change. Demographic fluctuations occur. Viruses and diseases mutate and branch out. Environmental processes ebb and flow from natural and anthropogenic changes. Memes change society. Evolution changes life....

Times change. Conservatives don't.

postS. Andrew Sullivan's article here.