The fifth facade

Yesterday was centered around installing the roof, which, as one of my favorite architects ever calls "the fifth facade".  This man designed a building so singular and iconic that the 2000 Olympics incorporated the building into its logo.  Ironically, due to the inevitable conflict that arises over the construction of such a unique structure, as well as the distance that separates Europe from Australia, Jorn Utzon HAS NEVER BEEN TO THIS BUILDING IN ITS COMPLETED STATE.  I find that staggering.

The only similarity between me and Mr. Utzon is that we are both architects.  It ends there.  He has more talent in his hangnails than I could ever hope for.  Despite this vast gulf of skill, I, with my crew of kids, neighbors, and my very own pops realized the fifth facade of our party shack yesterday and had a great time doing so. 

The initial challenge was deciding that I would build the entire roof diaphragm on the work table and we would lift the entire rigid frame (carefully) in place and secure it to the framing.  I chose this route as the alternative was to be a rafter monkey on a light, rickety frame not meant for live loads other than snow and wind.  In addition, the translucent roofing material will not support human weight, so I chose the safer method of controlling the installation without fighting gravity, a 4:12 roof pitch, or fragile materials.

So here's where I introduce the bicycle analogy into this post:  like a wheel, which is made up of many spindly elements (spokes and rim), once tied together and properly tensioned this unit is an incredibly strong structure.  This roof, once assembled and laterally braced with the roof sheathing became a rigid and light structure that was easily lifted into place by 4 adults and 4 teens/tweens.  Some tricky manouvering and voila, we have shelter.

This has been a cool week.

Ice cream headache

So Day 3 of the Gert Jan Theunisse monument sees more neighborhood involvement in the sheathing and rafter setting.  This thing might actually get done this week.

During our trip to Home Despot (not a misspelling) we stopped at the Panera for some bread and we picked up...frozen lemonade.  So good yet so painful--the large volume straw created an infusion of frosty lemony goodness that walloped the sinuses in that too familiar way...pleasure and pain in one fell swoop.

Translucent roof panels (and translucent road mileage on the biciclette) tomorrow.

Dutch treat

Not much time on the bike lately.  The pattern has been consistent 400 mile months from October through April, only to tail off dramatically between May and September.  An inverse proportion based on commitments that don't center around Eddy or the RX1 or my converted Cadex fixie or the Look hanging in the garage or the Stumpjumper in pieces...too many bikes, not enough time.

Day 2 of vacation, thusly:  A trip to the doctor to get an outer ear infection diagnosis for my son, coupled with a Home Depot excursion to show my daughter how to pick lumber (old hat for the boy, but he's along for the ride, painful ear and all).  Fill up the van, cinch the plywood to the top, and off we go to lay the deck...

Build walls...

Erect them...

And sit on the loft...

Tomorrow, the rest of the walls and maybe even the roof.  A major design decision moment hit me today when, depressed at the thought of schlepping ugly T-111 plywood to sheath this thing, rendering it to look like a garden shed gone awry, I went all Dutch and decided to pull a De Stijl/Mondrian move on this thing since it's supposed to be "playful" anyway.  This also saves my back because 1/4" plywood is a lot lighter than anything 2.5 times thicker.  We're not at that stage yet.

Note to Hairy Eric:  If you are reading this, that's why I wasn't on the Thrasher ride today.  One day I will join you briefly, as I will be duly dropped lest I get off the current weekend warrior cycle.  Only 3 more months 'til CX season...

"Vacation"

Unless I leave town, I truly can't get away from work.  I took the week off as the kids enter their second full week of summer vacation, the first being a luxurious week at the Grandparents' Resort.  Now they're stuck with dad, who is trying to separate the work/pleasure realms in a way that makes this time off worth it.

Not easy for a control freak like me, especially when several projects in the office are in critical stages.

So far, no calls in and I've resisted the urge to call in myself.  Instead, the kids and I have designed a structure to be built in the backyard this week.  Not a standard playhouse or wooden fort--this will feature some architectural embellishments (aka mistakes) that will make it unique since we are, after all, designing it as we go.  Keeping it modular to reduce cuts and waste, it's an exercise in base 12 math, since all of our sheet lumber here in the USA breaks on a 4" increment.  Framing lumber?  Well that's another story... 

As my wife said, done is better than perfect.  If all goes according to plan, we'll be done at the end of the week, one section at a time each day.  

Today is the first floor deck... 

Father and son

A few weeks ago I attended a dinner honoring the career of one of my architecture profs who had just retired.  It was one of those "This Is Your Life" type affairs, with lots of faculty and alumni enjoying a fine Marriot style catered meal in the style of the ubiquitous banquet,the perfunctory powerpoint slide show with nice music, and comments from former students and colleagues from the dais, in the manner of a gentle roast.

This man was quite influential in my education, and I owe lots to him, especially the low key nature that he would approach problems and the deliberate way he taught me to solve them.  The highlight of the evening for me, however, was not the honor we placed on him.  It was actually an observation of the respect that a current colleague of mine received.  As someone I work with daily, it was a treat to see him return to be among friends and mentors from 18 or so years ago--the true appreciation of this guy as a person was evident and remarkable to me.

Unfortunately, this weekend we attended his father's funeral.  While the sadness was abundant, the people who showed up at the modified shiva and funeral demonstrated yet again just how loved this man was and how loved his remaining family is.   The kind words by various relatives that described his father can easily be attributed to my friend.  That said, I feel like I knew him, even though I never met him, because I will see him through his son on a daily basis.  By all accounts he was a good man, as is this guy.  Rest in peace, Dr. W.

Adult fun

It's been two weeks since the Great Carvel's Adventure and frankly, I've been unmotivated to do many things due to an enormous elephant in my office that has been sucking all the available oxygen out of the room.  Besides that, the end of year flurry at school and both baseball seasons coming to an end have also contributed to this lack of reflecting, which is primarily the reason I'm writing now.

Kids are at the in-laws this week, giving K and I ample time to...work.  Of the 4 evenings where we could've had some quality time, we carved out two for dates, the other two for getting stuff done that will make life around the edges of work a little easier.  How romantic.

Reminds me of a time a couple of years ago when we found ourselves, in the middle of the week, during the school year, with about 4 hours to ourselves in the afternoon.  Prime time.  We saw some friends later that evening, and they asked us how we spent such sweet found time, clearly reacting to our respective youthful glows.

A 2 hour hard ride in Rock Creek Park for me and a clothes shopping trip for K never came at a better time... 

Ice cream freeze

We discovered a Carvel's ice cream stand in our neighborhood this weekend.  It's sequestered in the Jerry's sub shop and is a welcome addition to any suburban landscape.  We went there after my son's baseball game on Sunday, and again tonight after the spring band concert at his school.  As the scheduling gods would have it, my daughter's concert was at the same time, different school.  So we parents split the duties and paired off with the respective gendered match to enjoy the dulcet tones of elementary and middle school musicians.

As is often the case, I will find just about any excuse to enjoy a soft serve chocolate cone, so we just HAD to swing by the ice cream joint to pick up the cones.  Just as we got into the car, my daughter called, trolling for a cone for her too.  I hadn't offered to bring any home, as we do have ice cream in the freezer(s), but she called to jump on the Carvel's bandwagon.  

I could've lied and said "we're pulling out of the parking lot" but instead, sucker that I am, I got out to buy my sweet daughter a cone.  Of course, in the 45 seconds between leaving the shop, getting the call, and re-entering the shop, the entire neighborhood of South Four Corners decided to get a cone too.

Actually, they bought banana splits.  And actually, it was a family of 4 (or 6).

So I stood in line, waiting while the single Carvel's lady assembled a banana split, which consists of every sweet condiment in the store, including, or course, peeling and slicing a fresh banana and topping the whole concoction with whipped cream and caramel syrup.  Of course the ice cream was ROCK hard and the whipped cream was fussy, so the entire process for 1 banana split took about 4 minutes.  I timed it based on the elapsed time between phone call and delivery of split.

Now I'm already irritated that I succumbed to the will of the 10 year old, but now I'm in line behind the Banana Split family, who, unbeknownst to me, don't just want one.  When the split is finally completed, mom orders another one.  Four minutes later, presented again with another work of art, she orders another one.  I don't know if she's still ordering more, because I left.

It wasn't the quantity of the deserts; it was the deliberate way that each desert was ordered sequentially that pushed me ever closer to madness.  I weighed the frustration of waiting close to 15 minutes for one ice cream cone against the disappointment of a daughter.  She'll have many opportunities for disappointment-- I may as well continue the trend.

So I came home empty handed, scooped her a bowl from the freezer , and told her this would taste better because the cone I would have brought home would have tasted like anger.  Now while this entire episode only took about 30 minutes out of my life today (including writing about it), it doesn't compare with this guy's experience at a Subway shop downtown...this one is, as Jim Rome so irritatingly says,  "Klassik".

A great race not seen..

It was an impressive ride, from all accounts, and I didn't get to see it.  Instead I watched my son's baseball game, also impressive in that the team did well and he is incrementally improving at a sport that requires tons o' skill and practice to even be mediocre.

Kind of like racing.

The ride I didn't see is Russ Langley's participation in the break that lapped the field at the CSC Invitational.  I wasn't there, so the details can be found here and here and here.  And given the amount of writing that my fellow cyclists are doing, more will be found here.  It's too bad he went down in the last lap, but was able to roll in on one of his teammate's rides to secure the top 12 or so finish.  I saw some photos that a friend took.  I felt like I was there.

Russ is a local pro.  I don't know him, nor he me.  I see him on rides (very briefly) and sometimes at a coffee shop in Chevy Chase.  He seems pretty quiet, definitely intense, and committed to racing well.  It showed today.

From afar, congrats to Russ Langley.