With Apologies to Beethoven

There is nothing sadder than an idiot making a recording and posting it to the Internet, especially when the recording is full of bad notes and immature playing. But the idea has been in my head for a while now. Call it vanity--I'm not sure what it is. I have some good excuses if you read on.

I played music for a living for about 12 years, most of the time in night clubs and bars but also for parties, wedding receptions, whatever would pay. At a time in life when most people are building their careers and families, I was staring at my keyboard or at a dance floor full of drunk people. And I really loved it.

Then I moved away, met Cheryl, got married, and yesterday was our 18th anniversary. So while I loved being a musician, I love my current life even more. Along the way Cheryl convinced me to buy a nice piano. I practice almost every day and I continue to learn things and improve. At some point, though, I know that my fingers or brain will start to give out. So, that's my excuse: better make some recordings before it is too late.

Also, tomorrow is my hernia surgery, so I will be unable to start the bathroom project for a while and I need some interim subjects here. Apparently I will not be allowed to live-blog from the operating room tomorrow (hospital rules), but I do plan to do a post while I am still pretty sedated, also for posterity's sake.

Beethoven wrote the Pathetique sonata when he was 28. He was a crazy, dark, passionate guy, and if he were alive today he would gut me like a fish for playing like this. I recorded the first movement 3 times and screwed up the chromatic run at the end each time. Oh, well.

The Mother of all Projects

During those days of waiting for the new faucet to arrive in the mail, I was forced to take showers in the guest bathroom. Our claw foot tub is an old one, and it requires a faucet made only by monks living on a remote mountain top in Norway, which may explain the delay in shipping.

I never thought that anything would be preferable to taking a shower, but I love our little tub, especially now with its new finish and new faucet. Can you really scrub your feet when taking a shower? Can you cover yourself with bubbles? (Tell the truth.)

After a few days in the shower Cheryl and I came to the same conclusion: the next project should be guest bathroom. The tiles are discolored and chipped and cracked and broken on the walls and floor. The shower has a really sloppy repair job, the tiles bowed out and threatening to burst out from the wall. It's a wonder our guests have never complained about it.

This won't be an ordinary project. We'll start by gutting the room--everything, down to the toilet, sink and light fixtures. Then we'll rip out the existing tile and strip the walls down to the 2 x 4s. Start with a clean slate. Just the prep work will a big project of its own.

All this has to wait until after my surgery on Thursday. And even though it is minor surgery (I'll be home the same day), it's the sort of thing that helps change focus from small to big.

Hospital Depot

No big surprise. The surgeon I met with yesterday was dismissive about my idea to repair my own hernia. He did make one good point, though: unless I get a really really sharp knife, it's going to hurt and bleed, a lot. "The Internet," he then said with some derision, "has made an expert out of everyone."

I told him that in the future we will have a big store called Hospital Depot where you will go to do your own procedures, watch videos, rent surgical equipment. Brain surgery would be on aisle 1, broken bones on aisle 2, etc. Doctors will be roaming the floors in orange vests, asking if you need help, always with that far-away and sad look, eager to tell you about their former practice and the time when they had their own practice.

"The human body is complicated," he interrupted me with a fairly patronizing tone, "but please feel free to do this yourself. I will be curious to take a look after you are finished."

After more posturing and bargining, he finally agreed to a reasonable price and I gave him the OK to start work. He promises that the job will be finished in one day. But he can't actually guarantee the work. In fact, I might actually feel worse after the surgery.

Oh well, I was not keen on cutting myself open, anyway.

Surgery for Under $100

I don't want to sound preachy, but if you want to know what's wrong with health care in this country, just look in the mirror. Take hernia surgery, for example. Later today I'm seeing a surgeon (contractor) for an evaluation and estimate, but who knows what he will charge (have you seen the cars they drive?), and then who knows how much my insurance might pay (screw them, anyway).

Then it hit me--this is really my problem, right? Why not just do the surgery myself and save some money and provide a good example for my fellow human beings? Years ago you had to go to medical school to learn this stuff, but now everything is on YouTube (free), complete with diagrams and instructions. I figure the whole thing will cost about $100, depending on the anesthetic. I'll need:

Razor blade knife (I've already got one but what the heck)
Bandages (big)
Needle nose pliers (I've got 2, need 2 more)
Small staples for my staple gun
Sewing needle and thread (dissolving)
Dry wall joiner mesh
Utility sponge (in case I bleed a little)
Alcohol (disinfectant)
Alcohol (anesthetic)

Sure, I can't do it alone: I'll need Cheryl to hold onto the pliers and work the sponge. And even though this video makes it look easy, I've learned to always plan ahead for the unexpected.

A Contractor With a Soul

Something happened today to shake my beliefs to the core. Everyone has a moment like this--when an inconvenient truth spoils a lifetime of experience and a comfortable belief system, a moment that forces you to admit a profound error and character flaw, when you must finally say I was wrong.

Here's what happened: today my contractor showed up on time, finished ahead of schedule, did a good job, left the area as clean he found it (maybe cleaner), and did not exceed his estimate.

OK. Here goes: Sorry. I was wrong. Some contractors are well worth the money.

There, I said it. My life is changed forever.

And though I believe (if only to protect my own ego) that I possibly could have done a better job (given 3 or 4 weeks to work on it), he refinished this tub completely in just a few hours. Amazing.

He was prepared to work straight through and skip lunch but we convinced him to come downstairs and have a sandwich with us--a really nice guy. Of course, Willow fell in love with him. She's a sucker for anyone who works hard for reasonable wages and who will not question her authority. I'll never hear the end of it.

Picking my Battles Carefully

...and then I woke up. I'm just hoping it was all a dream.

In the meantime, my stained-glass project has taken a back burner to more pressing concerns. Over the weekend the faucet on our clawfoot bathtub finally rusted out--a screw mechanism split and the handle froze open, with cold water rushing into the tub. They don't sell these types of faucets at Home Depot or Lowes but I did find a nice one online, and you can install these in a few minutes.

The real issue is our old tub. It has been resurfaced before (poorly) and the new finish is peeling away here and there with rusty spots. Really ugly. So right now is a good time for me to fix it--so that we have a shiny tub to go with our shiny new faucet. Only right now I am waiting to get a hernia fixed, so I feel rotten all the time. I was tempted to say "get my hernia fixed," but it is not my hernia. Anything that keeps me from doing my projects is my enemy. I see a surgeon Tuesday and hope to soon have this all behind me.

For a day or two I was tempted to make this personal and refinish the bathtub if only to prove that my body can't slow me down. You have to draw a line in the sand, right? But refinishing a bathtub is not an easy or pleasant project (requires nasty chemicals, etc.). So I will be postponing my showdown to a later date and a future illness. I still can do it, right?

However, on Saturday (and I'm not sure I can write this without crying) a contractor will be coming to refinish the tub.