Flexistentialism Welcome Guest | Login or Register

Last late summer, I was in the market for a new bed. I have been sleeping on a very thick and sturdy futon that I have owned for the last 12 years. Before that, it had a long life as a bed for a friend who was coming out in San Francisco. (Who is now wanting to become a Catholic monk, but that’s another story). So, even if it is suitably thick, firm, and good for another decade, I think it’s time for a new bed.

The problem arose when in the maze that is Ikea in Utah; I was overwhelmed with choices, all of which I didn’t like. I could find a mattress I liked, a slat set I liked, box springs I liked, but all the beds were…well, if you’ve been there you’ve seen the homage to Swedish design that left me with lots of light or black wood designs that were all very low to the ground. I am ready for a grown-up bed, preferably one as high as a fancy hotel bed, with high thread count sheets to match. Luckily, my frustration was met with a suggestion from Sam: “Well, we could make our own bed.” I hadn’t considered this. I assumed it took knowledge only a carpenter with a pencil permanently mounted behind the ear could do. But turns out, beds can be made by people with an eye for measurement and knowledge of where to get high quality fasteners. (check and check).

Of course, after purchasing the slats and mattress, strapping them to the top of our solar trailer and bringing it back through the winds of Wyoming to home; the proposed September/October project is still in design phase. But here is what has been done so far:

• Picked out a baltic birch plywood that has “a large number of thin, void-free plys”


• Picked out and tested a dark stain


• Drawn up some preliminary designs, inspired by this box:


• Determined a bed height desired of 28-29 inches


• Used Sketch-Up and Illustrator to determine the cut pattern for the different pieces of the bed


• Tested these preliminary designs on the CNC Router “Findy”, to ensure a depth that allows the light wood to show through the stain but doesn’t weaken the wood

We’re not done, obviously, but we need to finish determining the pattern and putting it into software, since the order of assembly goes: stain, cut pattern, cut pieces, sand, polish, and assemble. But hopefully it is finished in next month or two, and I get my new bed. Project time…

Over the last couple of months, I’ve been seeking out specifically themed films and shorts to create programs to show to friends. The first, an informal animation collection, required a lot more time than I expected, but was completely worth the result. More than a dozen shorts, demonstrating a variety of styles and stories. (No exchange of monies here, just what I paid to own the pieces).

Since then, I am helping to plan the warehouse’s blowout NYE bash. Our theme is that of a Speakeasy, leaving lots of creative options for decoration, costumes, activities, and drinks. It roughly parallels our journey from a start-up art cooperative to a more and more organized non-profit entity – an exciting process, of course. However, living out tales of prohibition and gangsters is more exciting, at least on a temporary basis. For the event, it was requested we have some visuals – something reminiscent of the 1920s. A friend who has experience both with lots of films and going non-profit warned me extensively about showing only materials that would not violate copyright with our private party status. Luckily, he also recommended archive.org, a website full of public domain films and music, complete with thumbnails to preview images and user reviews. Within a couple hours, I had tracked down old Betty Boop cartoons where Betty mimics both FDR and Herbert Hoover, and has visions of a mug of beer (not too subtle for the time). I found newsreels proclaiming the end of Prohibition, with footage of raids with men destroying barrels of whiskey with axes in the street. There were films both silent and talking covering scenes in nightclubs and speakeasies, with plenty of gangster and gambling action, and Felix the Cat cartoons where Felix learns about moonshine and quite enjoys it. A few days later, I have close to six hours of public domain and creative commons media (open copyright) ready to go for our gig. It’s pleasing to be able to find films like these and know they can be shown at an event to create atmosphere without running afoul of legal rights, even in creating a party specifically about law breakers 90 years ago.

It’s bizarre to reflect on what life was like for a country banning liquor production. December 31st, 1919 saw lots of private, undisclosed-location parties where people boozed up as much as possible before the January 16th, 1920 start of Prohibition. And yet, when Prohibition was headed for repeal, liquor prices countrywide dropped a full year before becoming legal again, just due to the change in expected market. I can imagine citizens easing off their stockpiles with legal alcohol on the horizon. It’s interesting to think whether this would happen with any other currently illegal drug – though nothing quite compares in terms of widespead legality the world around like alcohol.

Hopefully, tomorrow night will go something like this:

On January 16, 1920, Prohibition began. Only four days after, the 50-50 Club opened in New York City, becoming the first of some 30,000-100,000 speakeasies to operate in that city alone during the “Great Experiment.” The protocol was simple: Knock on a friendly (anonymous) door, give a pre-arranged password, and be permitted to enter. To order, one would “speak easily” (that is, in a quiet tone), and then be served a teacup of gin or whiskey that would either be the “real McCoy” or had just been mixed in someone’s bathtub, depending on the connection and the reliability of the bar owner.”

from “Joe Sent Me” by Dave Sikula

I for one, will be glad to break into a bottle of champagne tomorrow night – and have a sober driver cart me home eventually. And I won’t even have to hide my bubbly in a teacup.

NO! Sam’s grandmother is doing fine, you sick person. We are saying goodbye to the Biobenz – the mercedes on the left. It’s been a great car, treated us well on roadtrips, and we in return coddled its diesel engine through cold winters. And there’s nothing like the sound of an old diesel to tell you when someone’s just gotten home. However, it sits lonely in the parking lot most days now, and is better served at a new home in Tennessee. This week we’ll be looking for a different kind of trailer-puller – a Toyota pickup: it should hold up better in the winter, and be more useful for the trips to pick up big items as well as the road trips. Farewell, bio-benz – have a safe journey to Tennessee.

Next on tap for the non-alky spot in the warehouse’s kegerator? Hibiscus soda!

I love root beer, but the ingredients are expensive, and I’m still on the fence about adding caramel color to make it more appealing to the masses. So what other sodas can be kegged? Numerous ones – though I’m not a straight-up cola fan, and am generally not into fruit sodas either. However, our other brewer on the premises suggested a hibiscus soda – not unlike a common Mexican summer drink, oaxaca or sweet waters – made with jamaica (hibiscus), lime, cucumber, strawberries, or other summery ingredients. After checking out several recipes, I opted for the simplest: dried hibiscus blossoms, sugar and water. The test batch, completed Tuesday night came out with great color and flavor – even working with a recipe that listed “sugar: amount to taste”. I already liked hibiscus in herbal tea – this just brings it to an evening drink with the carbonation. It also competes with the trendy pomegranate drinks, since hibiscus is also high in Vitamin C.

The keg is carbonating for several days with 4 gallons of water – on Monday, I’ll make up what is essentially the hibiscus soda syrup in one gallon of water to be added to the keg and carbonated for an additional 3-4 days. That makes it ready to go for 4th of July weekend – and the following weekend’s art show. Here’s the basic recipe in case you feel like trying it – the non-keg, quick’n’dirty way to carbonate is to make it with half the water and top up with club soda:

Hibiscus Soda

2 quarts water

1 cup dried hibiscus blossoms (at groceries stores in the West, or in Mexican markets)

1/2 cup sugar

Boil the hibiscus blossoms in the water for ~4 minutes. Let steep another 10-15 minutes and strain. Add the sugar and mix thoroughly. Carbonate and pour over ice. Makes 2 quarts (duh).

The warehouse project is going pretty well, with a good group of people, lots of project activity, and almost at the black line for finances. Our next big question is, do we go non-profit? In an ideal world, our LLC could go to classes on how to do this, ask questions about what we need to do to be in line with all the laws and regulations from an experienced teacher, and hand in a single application packet with a small fee once ready.

I am told this is not how it works.

We are lucky that one member has done some background research on what we need to do, what laws are really important to research, and what benefits and difficulties we can expect. But it will take calling different offices to ask questions, probably some legal counsel, some changes in how finances are handled, and probably more work for me as we change our spreadsheets and procedures. The benefits would be helpful however, and so we’re slowly moving forward. In the meantime, if there are any experts out there on moving to non-profit status in the Centennial State, let me know.

I could talk about the blizzard right now, in which there should be 8-19 inches of snow on the ground by 6am tomorrow, but it’s so overdone. What is under the snow is more interesting, and is greatly aided by the snow: the brand new, 200 sq ft (but looks more like 300 sq ft by eyeballing the dimensions) SUNNY garden plot!

After cajoling and flattering as much as possible, I was told that there was zero chance of moving to a sunnier plot within the idyllic community garden where I spent the last year. In fact, five of the twenty members had requested the same thing, and yet no one was willing to move from the slightly sunny plots. If 25% of the garden is dissatisfied with the amount of light, that should be a sign: cut down the damn southern trees.

Lucky for the trees, I chose the rational option: I switched gardens. The garden director took pity on me and found me a spot in the next nearest garden, a sunny plot that was recently vacated by a gardener who took very good care of the plot. That last point was repeated to me by every gardener in the vicinity that I have met so far – it’s hard to know whether this is to reassure me that I am getting a good bed, or to reinforce that there are expectations of anyone inheriting such a high quality cache of soil.

So, goodbye to the pretty crocuses, the wrought iron fence that the peas climbed up all spring, the raised beds and pretty memorial roses. I did leave the plot better than I left it: with sturdy rows of onions to harvest later, and a cover crop of winter wheat to add organic material to the soil. My new garden, which really is only farther from home by maybe 0.2 miles, still definitely reachable by bike; is different in the extreme. All plots, which are considered 400 sq. ft. in size (I signed up for a 1/2 plot, twice the size of my old raised bed), are in full sun. There are probably 400 of them and they are in ground, not raised – giving the appearance of having stumbled upon a vagrant’s camp. There are always bits of fabric or plastic to cover early plants, hay bales scattered to create a buffer zone between plots, fences made from random sticks, tattered Tibetan prayer flags and lots of friendly dogs around. But a busy garden is a better garden – gardeners answer questions, they admire crops, and they look out for attacks from wildlife, insects, and (apparently the big problem in this area) drunk teenagers and greedy lazy organic food lovers.

Already I’ve met several of my neighbors, and they’re all quite friendly. There are new options for fancy drip irrigation systems, all heavily subsidized by rebates from the city. I have more than double the space I had before, and it’s ALL IN SUN. That last item alone makes me thrilled to join the new garden tent-city, with visions of fields of basil dancing in my head.

The increasing snow outside, however, makes it difficult to tackle the new list of to-dos: build a fence that might delay deer, double-dig the soil, and plant the first sugar snaps and greens for the early spring. Research drip irrigation systems (they can’t even be used until late May – freezes happen past Mother’s Day here), keep an ear open for getting some free well decomposed manure, and pick up a wonderful donation of several Walls-of-Water or similar item from a friend’s mom who knows her stuff and is just that kind. I am so ready for garden time – even if it’s done in between snow storms for now.

Over the weekend, I both gave and received strange gifts. Both were appreciated more than any gift certificate, and neither will stick around long. It wouldn’t surprise me if more gifts ended up this way this year since most of us will not be receiving any contract bonuses that represent more than the average yearly salary of a schoolteacher.

On Friday, the warehouse was the site of our first art show. It was gratifying to have a reasonable turnout of maybe 80 people, 12 artists showing work, and a pretty successful donation bar. It continues to blow me away how well the warehouse group gets things done – and without ego getting in the way of everything. This will be a monthly event, so it simply needs some positive word-of-mouth & continuing energy to clean up the warehouse each time, and we’ll be set.

At the art show, I had the opportunity to present Mike (winner of the prize for “why does this dog look like my friend”) with his prize: 1 quart of my latest batch of homemade root beer. I have to applaud Mike for accepting this prize, since it was the most adventurous recipe yet – a 50/50 blend of white sugar and light amber maltose for the sugar source. While I expected that the yeast would fall in love with the maltose, I underestimated how deeply the two would fall, and it had by far the biggest head of foam of any batch. It also was far less sweet than previous batches – with a scent of yeast as opposed to sarsaparilla, vanilla, or any other ingredients I put in. Despite all this, Mike was pleased to try something so different, and I now have a better idea of what sugar mix to use for the next, 5 gallon batch. There’s some friendly pressure from our resident homebrewer, who wants to ramp up the root beer production for our next event. All I need is an extremely cheap source of honey….know any non-commercial or liquidating (pun intended) beekeepers along the Front Range?

The gift I received was even stranger. On Saturday evening, relaxing with one of my favorite root beers and friends, I got a call from an unknown number. I didn’t pick up, since sitting at a dinner table with others hardly seems like the time to pick up one’s phone, but I did listen to the voicemail at the next opportunity. A gentleman with a penchant for beards had left me a message apologizing for Sam’s state of relative facial-hair-less-ness, and described the scrappy bits that exist on his chin in exquisite, albeit unappealing detail. Turning to Sam with the most puzzled look on my face I’ve had in months, I asked him why my favorite cartoonist would possibly be calling me to apologize for how “the downy blades on his chin remind you of leftover spaghetti stuck to the pot”. Turns out, David Malki has offered to call his fans as a surprise to find out what they are like, and Sam had orchestrated just such an event. This also just happens to coincide with my frequent remarks to those who know me that he would be perfect for a conference I work for that happens to need more funny people. So, at my friends’ insistence, I went outside to call him back. We had a slightly awkward conversation about spaces and warehouses for artists, the facial hair spectrum, and thoughts on our relative cities. After casually mentioning the conference I work on that Mr. Malki would be perfect for, he said he’s been trying to work on his public speaking skills and so would consider it for the future. (Hooray!) We ended our conversation: me back to friends with strange ideas for gifts, and he to looking at a potential new artist studio. And we both had more interesting weekends for it.

Conan O’Brien and Andy Richter are back together again!! Back when Conan first signed the contract for taking over The Tonight Show, I argued to anyone who would listen that given the jump in salary and budget for Conan, he should beg/plead/kidnap Andy to come back. Unfortunately or fortunately, Andy Richter’s work since leaving Late Night has been a little too subtle to last very long, leaving him otherwise unemployed. But put the two together in a staring contest and you have pure comedy. Others may have scoffed that either wanted to work together again, but money (or a better time slot) talks, and this will be good news for late night. YEAH!

A friend of mine posted a link to an adoption page for a dog from a shelter. It’s not that she wants the dog, as far as I can tell, I think she just found it appealing. When I looked at it, however, I immediately noticed a similarity to a friend of mine from STL. Sam agrees, after examining the photo that the likeness is uncanny. I have a feeling if you know this friend you would agree immediately, but that’s not what I’m curious about. I want to know WHY THE HELL A RANDOM DOG CAN LOOK LIKE SOMEONE I KNOW. I can’t pick out a particular feature that nails it for me, but if you do figure it out, post in the comments below, and I’ll try to get a prize of some kind to you. And, importantly, there is no insult intended – I think it’s a nice looking dog, for its breed combination, and the friend isn’t bad looking either. It’s just weird.

See that? That is the new Big Project. Despite whatever we did or did not learn from running a fire performance LLC, we decided to take on the larger project of organizing a group of people who want “project space”, and making that space possible. What you see to the left is the original bare bones set-up. While it looks a lot more like a workshop this week, it still has a long way to go: we have to balance our budget, we have to get rid of five pallets of cardboard, five exterior doors (old tenants love to leave behind junk), build a loft, and solve issues about what is expected of everyone so there is a strong culture of respect. Luckily, so far we have a truly excellent group of people. I was starting to give up on this city having people who are this high quality, but I’m glad to be proven wrong. Now if only we could find a taker for all those doors…in the meantime, I’ll try to post updates as the space comes together. The Big Project will hopefully allow me to brew root beer for incorporation into the multi-tap kegerator, do tie-dye without risking other people’s floors, and Sam and me to build our other Big Project: a paper incinerator that is also an art piece that is also easy to use and transport, that also meets particulate matter standards, etc. Hmm.

...there was a boy. Despite being as frustrated and annoyed as most 13 year-olds, he went to a camp where he took classes with about 90 other adolescents marked early on as smart kids. Sustained on Dr. Pepper, eye-rolling, an encouraging role in DJing, and new friends, he struck up friendships with several people at the camp, including two kids who lived a hour or two north of his town in the mountains of Colorado.

Those two kids egged on the boy, insisting he return letters, send mix tapes of his high school radio show, and ditch school to meet them for slurpees or other ridiculous activities not usually considered worth driving 100 miles round trip for.

One of the kids had a high school friend who loved designing and making costumes.

Time for college came, and the kids headed to different schools: across Colorado, Utah, Rhode Island….

The second kid reached junior year in college, and needed a roommate. Luckily, the two campmates bumped into each other at an outdoor concert the summer before and mentioned the need for a roommate. Turned out that the costume design friend was moving back to Colorado, and set to start that fall at the same school and needed housing as well. Trusting the camp friend’s judgement without a second thought, the costume designer and the second kid became roommates.

They had many parties, with many great costumes…

And along the way, the original friendships from camp held together – including visits to each other’s schools and more often, invitations for the boy to come to the theme parties. By this time, his DJ skills were definitely developing.

College finished for the kid from camp, and graduation meant a trip away from the state for graduate school. There were tears as what was a very fun household broke up for everyone to go their separate ways. However, the kid from camp came back a few months later to see friends, and in the usual way, gathered together as many friends as possible for a short in-town visit, whether or not they usually hung out together in the kid’s absence.

Somewhere along the way, the costume design girl and the boy from camp had noticed all the neat things about each other – and seemed to share a certain goofiness, an interest in similar music, and it wasn’t long before they started dating.

15 days ago, these two people got married – in a beautiful 1920s ceremony complete with handmade dresses for the bride and her bridesmaids, and guests turned out in bowlers, flapper dresses, and long satin gloves to dance, eat cake, and celebrate most of the night. It is hard to believe that now a lifetime together can happen because of a spark from two people I met 15 years ago and helped introduce to each other.
Congratulations, S & N.

You’re right. I haven’t posted in a while, because it’s hard to know which stuff to post. So let this serve as a jump back into the posting waters, with some generalized updates:

• Both Sam and I are now employed. I am what you might call under-employed, but it works for now and forces some time organizing skills that are worth developing. Also led to an interview for a better job that I don’t have details on yet.


• The garden has gone through two frosts now, and we’ve pulled out most of the greenery. We have a funny system set up to hopefully ripen the tomatoes: a long pole stretched across a chair with the tomato vines draped across it. The tomatoes dangle down, hopefully turning red with a little more support. I wish I could speed up the process with some ethylene. Unfortunately, it’s not sold retail. For the garden plot, the hope is to switch to a sunnier locale next year, meaning that I need to pull out my herbs and sow a winter cover crop to make this plot more appealing. Luckily, I have extra wheat from my uncle to put down – it looks really attractive when it shoots up around Easter, and puts nitrogen back into the soil.


• Our road trip west was wonderful – and included cutting 21 mohawks! But get this: two of the mohawks turned out to be NEXT DOOR neighbors here in town. It was bizarre to meet 1000 miles away and find out we live so close in real life. It also included learning how to provide a variety of services in a pretty urban environment, including lots of bike repair for Sam, and general bartending for all of our friends. It is a great experience to realize how much we all like to fix things.


• I got to meet four bats up close through a volunteer position at the DBG. Wish I had brought the camera – but they were amazing even without it. A neat fact: only New World bats (microbats) echo-locate, and it makes them look like they’re silently screaming. I very much want a bat detector for Christmas, but understand if you’re not interested in dropping $300-$1800 for a hobby device.


• I’ve been tutoring calculus. It’s a good reminder of how much cooler calculus is than the math sections that come before it, and how much fun it is to share with someone else why we need calculus. I think I must be doing a better job than I expected.


• I have an obsession lately with reading and learning about America’s urban decay. That is to say, I am watching The Wire, reading Random Family by Adrian Nicole LeBlanc, and closely following the corruption and replacement of St. Louis’s police chief. Our current city really doesn’t have urban decay – it’s much too wealthy and restrictive for that kind of thing, but St. Louis has it in spades. I’d like to think that there are people in St. Louis, Baltimore, Detroit, the Bronx, and other major urban centers who are working to improve the education, opportunities, and lives of people who live in crumbling urban areas. I’d like to get back into more of that at some point, even if the overarching point of The Wire is that the situation is hopeless.


• We had a chance to show around an architect friend from Austin recently. Having visitors is fantastic for discovering the area in a new way – she had very different things she wanted to see compared to other visitors, and with the fall color, it was easy to oblige. This is a hint to those of you who might come visit – we are well outfitted to show you around and put you up.


• I’ll end by offering two interesting links that I think reflect my thoughts on the changing political landscape: a meticulously researched poll website called www.fivethirtyeight.com (referring to the exact number of electoral college votes) that gives some very well researched data on how various national and senate elections may go. The second is Flickr’s partnership with the Library of Congress. The set linked to in particular fascinates me. It is all shots of Americans during the Great Depression and just afterwards, showing the poverty, agriculture, industry and lives of citizens during the last period of serious economic turmoil. Flickr and the Library of Congress are asking individuals to tag the photos with any information you might have – if you can identify people, towns, crops, or other information it allows them to have a better understanding of what the Farm Security Administration was recording.

So there – an update – and a likely probability of more updates soon.

These wheeled structures are carrying 3 solar panels connected to 4 seriously sturdy batteries, an inverter, and some other stuff to create power for 40 people, nonstop, for 10 days. It could go longer, no problem, but eventually you want a shower. Bravo to Sam, Lohr, and that friendly red truck, Tuff Cherry, for making it all possible.

Through the magic of my clippers and my new left-handed scissors, I successfully turned
this…

into this:

Our visitor decided when I last saw him in April that he wanted a mohawk. Luckily, a drive out to see us gave us the chance to do so. I think he was pretty pleased with the results, as was I.

So there is good news and bad news about our new community garden plot. The good news: it is a nice-looking, friendly little garden, and we’ve already met two other gardeners who were extremely nice and seemed about the same level of experienced-amateur gardener that I might consider myself to be. Our garden leaders seem very nice, and should be holding some kind of group meeting soon, which I hope will allow me to really get to know the rest of the gardeners.

The bad news is a little more serious. Our 100 square foot plot sits next to two 30-feet tall blue spruces. That might be OK, except they sit immediately to the south. The. plot. is. shady. all. day.

If you’re not a gardener, you may at this point be saying, “So what? Clearly plants grow in shade, I see them all the time. Grow up!” In part, you’re right: I should grow up, but this is the second time in recent months I’ve had this problem: when we moved into our northwest-bottom-corner apartment and found I couldn’t raise much in pots on the windowsills. The garden was supposed to correct that problem, but as Sam considers, perhaps we are being “hazed” as new members of this exclusive locale. The pure shadiness of the plot means that more than half of the things I planned to grow must be crossed off. So, tomatoes, gladiolas, all peppers, basil, daisies and zinnias are out. LOTS of lettuce, spinach, broccoli, peas, collards, and did I mention lettuce? are in. We’ll show them we know how to garden.

The tragedy that keeps me from accepting this and moving on is that I haven’t grown tomatoes for over a year now, and was desperately looking forward to raising the crop that has the most payoff: a freshly grown and plucked tomato, something I could rest assured would grow in Colorado with much the same requirements as in Missouri. While I could quietly slip my brother $50 cash (he’s a certified sawyer) and the trees would suddenly no longer block the sun, I have a feeling I’d be hunted down by an angry mob if I did, since no one else would stand to gain from the trees mysteriously being chopped down.

So, we’ve taken the first steps – meeting a few other gardeners, and amending the soil with high-quality compost and sheep manure while picking out the blue spruce pinecones. This week I’ll probably put down peas and a few kinds of lettuce and spinach. If things work out, we’ll get a lucrative trading system down, offering the rare mid-summer spinach and lettuce when everyone else is drowning in tomatoes and basil. Oh, and next year we’ll request a move to a sunny plot.