The Crescent

Bee Bee's Birthday Present...

2011-06-01T17:29:00.001-07:00

Bee loves her hens. So, for her birthday this year, I got her these Japanese Silkie Bantams. I also built this Taj Mahal coop. I spent three weekends on this, and Bee actually got to help. I gave her a hammer and let her go. She stayed out back with me the entire day, in the heat, with no complaints. Lucy and Ethel have settled their differences and are roosting together again, and Lucy is laying eggs again. I have grown rather fond of the hens. It's a real treat to see them greeting me in the morning before work. I know it sounds strange, but I have my coffee with them while they feed on scratch grains first thing in the morning.

Port Royal Progress

2011-06-01T17:15:00.000-07:00

So the metal roof is finally up. The porch is completely framed too. Oyster shell concrete is going in this week for the porch and outdoor shower. The windows are in, the soaker tub has been delivered, and the AC is being roughed in over the next few days. Rough plumbing is all that keeps us from getting the drywall up. On the exterior we are going to fir out the block and side the lower half with Hardie-plank lap siding and the upper half in a board-and-baton style. It will look very nice when it's all said and done, but the dream of being able to use the place by Memorial day has came and went. We're now shooting for the Fourth of July. Keep your fingers crossed...

She's all but gutted...

2011-03-06T12:43:00.000-08:00

The work at the Port Royal cottage is moving along quickly. As you can see, its mostly gutted. Most of the work to date has been focused on the infrastructure...running new water and power supplies. We had the services buried so the beautiful oak would be unobstructed. That took some work. We also ran a new water service from the city main and completely gutted the interior space. The guys still have to remove the drop ceiling so we can rewire. We are planning to pour three inches of new concrete on top of the existing slab. That will give us the blank slate we were looking for. We have found (from experience) that it's often cheaper to gut the space as opposed to trying to preserve something not worth saving. I'ts still hard to get excited the project just yet. I have a vision of what I want it to look like in the end, but I get nervous trying to manage the project remotely. I've got a great builder, but when you don't get to see the progress as it's happening, it's just not the same. I've found that i'm spending quite a bit of time lately focusing on completing the cottage. I'm daydreaming at work. Surfing the web for the right outdoor shower , etc..I'm absolutely in love with the area and spend most weekends there as it is - never-mind the two hour drive and the eighty dollars in gas. Bee and I went down this morning. I just couldn't go a week without seeing the progress first hand. It's coming together...both in my mind and in person. I made subtle changes to my vision of the end product, so it wasn't a fruitless visit. We also visited downtown Beaufort for breakfast. I took a few shots of the waterfront park. Spring is definitely in the air.

Sing Louder!

2011-02-12T11:06:00.000-08:00

The Cottage Project

2011-01-08T15:17:00.000-08:00

This is really something to get excited about. It's a shame this hasn't caught on. Municipalities haven't made live-work projects easy. In the Cottage Square project, 19 single family homes are set on a single 2 acre plot. Less really is more, and in a walking community like Ocean Springs this kind of initiative goes a long way to revive economically challenged areas. Would love to see some developer incentives in place to spark some interest in this form of affordable housing in South Carolina.

Port Royal Cottage

2010-12-17T06:04:00.000-08:00

Well, we've finally come to an agreement. We're closing today at 2:30. We ended up with an owner financing option for the balance of the asking price, although we will probably only finance it over five years. Bank of America was just too difficult to work with. They insisted we make a multitude of repairs prior to closing that I only intended to rip out anyway. They wanted me to repair broken floor tiles even though I planned to remove the floor in the process of renovation. When they insisted we have a licensed inspector evaluate a roof system that we also intended to replace, we knew we had to seek other alternatives. The owner finance option is not for everyone, but it worked well for us. Find below a photo of the currently scary cottage as well as a rendering of what we think it will look like after we get to work.

The Top Ten Coolest Small Towns...(You'll be surprised!)

2010-10-22T13:43:00.001-07:00

Port Royal Cottage

2010-10-19T08:03:00.000-07:00

“Success is not a place at which one arrives but rather the spirit with which one undertakes and continues the journey.” - Alex Noble
We have embarked on another journey, another soon to be chapter in our lives. We are buying a little fishermen's cottage in Port Royal SC. If all goes well we will close on the property November 30th. We have had a satellite office in Beaufort for a couple of years. We leased some space in a mixed use flat in the Habersham community. Although we liked the area, we wanted a place of our own and Habersham was clearly out of our price range as second homes go. We also never really liked the planned community feel. Although Habersham's architecture seems to be period correct and Lowcountry inspired, the absence of the random shanty lends an aire of plastic uniformity that is difficult to ignore. After two years of searching for the perfect spot, we found the Port Royal cottage. Weighing in at a spry 860 sq-ft, we'll need to add on to the existing structure to get the footprint we need. The good news is that the house is solid and the lot is large.

Port Royal is a beautiful area steeped in history and tradition. Most people don't know that it is one on of the oldest continually used ports in the US. The first landing at Port Royal was made by Pedro de Salazar in the1500s. Spain sent other ships to this area in the 1520s and built the first fort in North America in 1525. Most men perished during that first winter. The Spanish, nevertheless, continued to use this area as a major anchorage in their explorations, and eventually made it the center of their North American empire.

In 1562, Capt. Jean Ribaut led a group French Huguenots to the New World. Three months later they sailed up a "mighty" river, the mouth of which they named Port Royal. Ribaut wrote that he had found ". . . no fairer or fitter place . . . the Port Royal." On what is now Parris Island, the French expedition built a fort they named Charles Fort in honor of King Charles IX. Ribaut returned to France for men and supplies and left 30 settlers on the island. When Ribaut did not return by July, the settlers feared the worst. With the help of the natives the stranded Frenchmen built a ship, the first ever known to have been built in the new world, and set sail for home. Although the ship floundered at sea, they were eventually picked up by English sailors and returned to France.
In 1565 a Spanish squadron was sent by Philip II to destroy the fledgling French colony. After destroying the French fort, the Spanish carried off the pillar set up by founder Jean Ribaut as a symbol of French domination, and returned with it to Cuba. One year later, they returned to St. Elena (now known as St Helena) to establish their own military port. For twenty-one years, St. Elena was considered the capital of Spanish "Florida".
In 1629 Charles I of England granted Sir Robert Heath the region comprising the two Carolinas, Georgia and much of Florida under the name Carolina, but no effort was made to colonize the area until 1663 when Capt. William Hilton sailed from Barbados on the ship Adventure and raised the first English flag over St. Helena Sound. Hilton Head Island was named in his honor. Seven years later Charles II of England gave the territory to eight of his friends in appreciation of their services in restoring him to the throne. The group was known as the Lord Proprietors. The Lord Proprietors began bestowing Land Grants in Port Royal.
Union occupation during the Civil War spared the Town of Port Royal from destruction. Gen. Thomas Sherman was quite content to ride out the war comfortably on Hilton Head Island. As a result, with the exception of a few unsuccessful forays a few miles north of Beaufort to attempt to sever the vital Confederate railway from Savannah to Charleston, Port Royal remained a pleasant beachhead for the Union. In fact, it was considered so safe that many Officers' families moved down form the North. The only evidence of war were the wounded who were routinely treated in Beaufort. When the other - the fighting Sherman- came through the area some three years later burning and pillaging, he spared the little historic town, destroying instead neighboring Hardeeville and McPhersonville just to the north. As a result, many of the majestic homes that were built in Port Royal are still in existence and are listed as historic buildings. Two churches were built, both of which still stand; Port Royal Union Church on 11th Street and the Zion Baptist Church on 15th Street. Mercantile buildings were constructed (including the F.W. Scheper store which still stands), two drug stores; dry goods stores; a blacksmith shop; a bakery was located in the Masonic Lodge Building that is now the Last Chance Saloon; and no less than seventeen bars and taverns. Many newspaper articles from the era mentioned fist fights and brawls. Train arrivals and departures were so frequent and the population so dense in Port Royal that pedestrian accidents frequently occurred on the rails.

In 1891 Congressman Robert Smalls was instrumental in having a U.S. Naval coaling station built on nearby Parris Island, complete with a 120 x 150 ft dock. The naval yard brought several ships into Port Royal Harbor including the USS Texas, the USS Indiana, and the ill-fated Battleship, USS Maine. In 1959 the South Carolina State Ports Authority re-activated Port Royal and provided the necessary funding to dredge the ship-turning basin and build transit sheds and berthing spaces. The Port Authority leased the facilities to the Port Royal Clay Company which exported Kaolin, a raw material used in the manufacture of porcelain. Along with the demise of the Railroad, both the Navy Yard and much of the commercial Port business were eventually moved to Charleston. In the 1960 Census the population of Port Royal was registered at less than 750 people. Today the population is around 3000.

I fully intend to restore the little cottage to its former glory. I'll chronicle the transformation on this blog. Photos coming after closing :-)

President's Day Weekend Ski Trip

2010-02-15T17:32:00.000-08:00

Stranger Danger...

2009-12-18T06:35:00.000-08:00

If you’ve ever said, “Yes, I’d love to go out and spend more time with my wife, but…..” and then you’ve found a hundred reasons why you don’t: too much work, the kids have too many extracurricular activities, you’re on a budget, there’s just not enough time, whatever the reason, the list goes on and on, then you might be heading down a slippery slope. The truth is though, if you don’t make the time for your marriage, you may wake up one morning next to a stranger. I say this because I’ve witnessed firsthand couples whose kids have gone off to college or left the house (and it’s often sooner than you think) and the husband and wife are left behind wondering what they have in common with their partner. A friend who is teetering on divorce told me recently that it wasn’t any one thing that ruined his marriage, just years of neglect on both his and his wife’s part. He said that eventually, they no longer knew one another and their marriage faded into emptiness. So, what do we do?

According to family and marriage expert Dr Joan, contributing writer to The Blog for Effective Parenting, part of the secret is dating. I am a huge advocate of the weekly marriage date, but I know it isn’t always easy to pull off. Nevertheless, do whatever it takes to spend dedicated time with each other. Have lunch together. Take a walk. Go grab a coffee; whatever. The point is, nurturing your marriage with adult time is critical to retaining a strong relationship with your spouse. During this time, limit your conversation to non-kid topics. It gives you the opportunity to re-connect at a very basic level. Sometimes things are so hurried that we don’t know which direction were moving in. Planning a weekly date allows you to slow it down.

Dr Joan stresses the importance of this quality adult time and recommends getting away together, even if it’s just for one night, at least once a year. I know firsthand that this is difficult at best, in fact, I can’t remember the last time my wife and I got away by ourselves without the pressure of work or kids. Nevertheless, I agree with the premise that all of us need to put energy into making this kind of time with our spouse or partner.
The bottom line… All parents need a break, and all marriages require work. Avoid stranger-danger by setting aside that time to reconnect.

2009-11-23T10:39:00.000-08:00

Go COCKS!!!
Saturday is the big game!! I havent given up all hope of scoring a ticket. These were the seats we had for the Kentucky game, and once you've been down here theres simply no going back to the cheap seats. I put my feelers out but came back empty handed. If you guys know of a single ticket available, shoot me an email anytime before Saturday!

On Rejecting Ordinary

2009-11-21T09:53:00.000-08:00

I absolutely detest average. Average does not make great societies. Average is mediocre and bland. Average is common, plain vanilla, and middle of the road. Yet average seems to be an increasingly more prevalent state of mind. Slackers and perennial underachievers are commonplace; even where we would least expect to find them. My own son believes that if he makes "decent" grades he should be able to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants to; as if a C average were something to be remotely proud of.

I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. After all, it took me a while to realize that the world was full of ordinary people. In high school I relished the fact that I could breeze through the state minimum curricula; never bringing a book home and still make passing grades. I knew that with some effort I could ace every course, but I didn't put forth that effort because if average was good enough for everyone else, it was surely good enough for me. No one told me that acing the state minimum curriculum should be considered average, and that excellence was in fact a much higher goal. I didn't realize that if the bar was set at excellence, the world would be full of great minds. Great minds who do great things. Average people only do average things.

When I graduated high school I didn't know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to be done with school. Accepting my diploma I didn’t feel proud or accomplished because deep down in the bowels of my soul I knew I hadn’t really accomplished anything. I felt strangely ashamed of myself, but I pressed on towards mediocrity anyway, following the majority of my classmates into an average and ordinary life. I got a job and went to work. I hung out with my friends at the local bars every chance I got. I lived above the garage at my parent's house. I suppressed my shame and made myself content with an ordinary existence.

Several years later I ran into a kid I went to high school with. I had known him well. However, although we had much in common, I naively shunned him as a friend. A lanky member of the brass section in our school's marching band, he was teased relentlessly. Though we had been in the Boy Scouts together for years, I tended not to associate with him outside of that setting for fear of damaging my already fragile social status. He recognized me right away and came over to say hello. He was friendly and gracious; and considering I was noticeably uneasy and embarrassed about being complicit in his frequent humiliation, he seemed genuinely happy to see me.

We reminisced for a while and went through the whole "what have you been up to" routine. I told him proudly that I was working in the engine factory making good pay, that I got plenty of overtime, and had paid vacation and benefits. I even offered to put in a good word for him, recounting that I had been instrumental in getting Pete and Frankie on full time at the factory too, cautioning that if he were interested he would have to start at the bottom and work his way up. He claimed to appreciate the offer.

So blindly content with the mundane, I didn’t realize that I had just offered a night shift production job to a guy who three months prior graduated Magna Cum Laud from Emory University and was recently accepted into the Medical College of Georgia. I stood in front of him, inglorious in a navy blue uniform with my first name in script on the shirt lapel as the indignity and shame of my underachievement was unveiled for the world to see. For the first time in my life I allowed myself to see who I had become. I finally admitted that I had set the bar so low that I eventually tripped over it.

I immediately changed how I viewed the world around me and vowed to never be satisfied with average. Now, I struggle with my own sons’ insistence on being typical. I don’t know when that moment of humble revelation will be for him. I’m hoping it’s sooner rather than later. Understanding that setting the bar of achievement at your personal best is liberating. It frees us to reach our full potential, live extraordinary lives, and go on to do great things. "There are countless ways of achieving greatness, but any road to achieving one's maximum potential must be built on a bedrock of respect for the individual, a commitment to excellence, and a rejection of mediocrity." - Buck Rodgers

Back Porch Addition

2009-10-25T19:38:00.000-07:00

So, Here it is! It's finally finished...well, almost finished. We're enjoying it already though. I would love to take credit for the work, but this craftmenship is the handywork of my friend Smitty. It's all 6"x6" treated stock set in concrete, complete with picture framed decking and a awesome stainless steel wire rail system. We spent way more than we wanted on it, but the results were well worth it... and we don't owe a dime on it. We saved for a few months and paid for the bulk of the work in weekly installments. Smitty was awesome about the project from the begining, and we gave him creative control for the most part. I think we only had three change orders throughout the entire build. I'm most pleased with the beadboard ceiling. We still have to skirt around the bottom and waterseal the top decking, but it's complete enough to enjoy. In fact, I'm planning on having a halloween party back there this weekend!

Foundation Repair...

2009-05-02T07:05:00.000-07:00

So, the Carolina Bungalow seems to be slipping into the abyss, at least until this past week that is. I knew when we bought the place the she was listing starboard, but we figured it had settled all it was going to over the last hundred years or so. Our home inspector agreed. So, we set about restoring everything except the pitching floors. I put in wainscoting and crown moldings. I caulked all the joints tight. The next summer, the crown joints reopened, and some of the plaster cracks reappeared. I was concerned, but felt that with little or no insulation in the post and beam structure, changes in humidity probably caused the excessive expansion and contraction, exposing cracks as a result. During the Flowertown festival that spring, the granddaughter of a former resident stopped by to see how the renovation was coming along. When we asked her about the floor, she recollected that it was just as uneven in the 1950's, so it wasn't a recent phenomenon. I was relieved, and charged on under a new found sense of assurance. That summer, I had the windows replaced, and man what a difference that made. The house really seemed to come together with the operational and efficient windows.

This spring the weather was intoxicating, so I decided to open up the house and let the flowering Jasmine rejuvenate our home from the greyness of winter. I was shocked when I found my new windows binding. A sinking feeling swept over me as I struggled to open the double hungs on the westward side of the house. I knew something had to be done. I called Mt Valley Foundation Repair Services, and I feared the worst. I searched around the Internet in an effort to build a mental estimate. I needed to know what to expect. Quotes ranged from six thousand to more than twenty thousand. I needed to draw a line in the sand. What is the most I will spend to shore up the foundation without reaching the dreaded negative equity point? Mt Valley sent out a very experienced and knowledgeable inspector to assess the situation. He did a thorough inspection inside and out and felt confident that the root cause of the problem was a long since removed Cyprus tree, whose massive stump caused a sinkhole as it decayed over the years. He recommended two Drive-Right piers driven thirty feet into bedrock to stabilize two sinking brick foundation points. Total estimate: $2400. I was excited and thrilled that correcting this ongoing problem wasn't going to break me. I can't say enough about Mt. Valley Foundation Repair Services. They showed up when they said they would, they did the work they quoted, and they thoroughly cleaned up the job site when the were finished. Out of all the contractors I have dealt with in the past, Mount Valley Foundation Repair Services definitely stands a cut above. I would recommend them to anyone facing similar "keep you up at night" problems...and with the lifetime transferrable warranty you can rest assured that they'll stand behind the repair. Oh, and the windows? They open as smootlhy as the day they were installed.

Aiming at the middle.....

2009-04-27T18:25:00.000-07:00

Ohio State University researchers seem to have found a measurable relationship between marital expectation and satisfaction. They studied 82 married couples for a period of four years. According to James McNulty, co-author of the study and assistant professor of psychology at OSU’s Mansfield campus, couples who had lower expectations didn't suffer the steep declines in marital satisfaction when compared to peers with delusions of Happy Days sitcoms dancing around in their heads. “Over the long term, it is important for marriage partners to have accurate knowledge of their relationship’s strengths and weaknesses,” McNulty said. “Satisfaction goes down when a spouse’s expectations don’t fit with reality.”
“There’s been a lot of emphasis on the idea of positive illusions in marriage,” McNulty said. “Sure, it may make you happy in the short-run to think your spouse is better than he or she actually is, but if the reality doesn’t match the image, eventually your satisfaction is going to decline.”
Why is this groundbreaking? Well, it’s not really. Choose your euphemism: “pick your battles”, or “don’t sweat the small stuff”. The point is that you adapt. You overlook some things, and give up on others. This certainly isn’t your run of the mill daytime talk show advice; in fact, the results are contrary to the advice of mainstream therapists who believe couples should always have high expectations for their marriage.
Me? I don’t know that I would call it lowering ones expectations, but I will say that having a healthy sense of reality goes a long way. The OSU researchers interviewed the couples at six-month intervals–a total of eight tests over the four year period. Interestingly enough, of the 82 couples, 17 were divorced by the end of the study.
I found an interesting quote on another blog about expectations in the era right after the Civil War. Here's a sample of a personal ad from the late 1800s:
"I am 33 years of age, and as regards looks can average with most men. I am looking for a lady to make her my wife, as I am heartily tired of bachelor life. I desire a lady not over 28 or 30 years of age, not ugly, well educated and musical. Nationality makes no difference, only I prefer not to have a lady of Irish birth. She must have at least $20,000. " Really???

Where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average...

2009-01-27T10:17:00.000-08:00

I have friends considering relocating to the Lowcountry, empty nesters of sorts. They’ve had the good fortune to experience life in a number of places, and are leaning towards our neck of the woods for their next chapter. I was asked what my ideal location would be if I could be anywhere I wanted. As a lowcountry native, where would I want to be? Where is that idyllic southern charm?

Hmmm. Good question; and quite honestly, its one I’ve never really tried to answer. I mean, I do know what I like and don’t like, so I guess that’s a start. The more I thought about the question though, the more I realized that this was an exercise I had to indulge, not so much for my friends, but for me.

Ideal - I don't know. Something with water though, even if it's inaccessible. I need the view. I also know that I want to stay in the Lowcountry. I get a sense of place here. For instance, my pharmacy still sells "the roots"... and by roots I mean traditional Gullah accoutrements like courthouse wash for cleaning the steps of the courthouse prior to a trial. Useful stuff, that is, if you should find yourself in such an unfortunate predicament. They also carry graveyard dirt, doves’ blood, and “do-as-I-say powder”...and no, I am not kidding. Now, it's not all out in the open. I mean - you do have to know to ask for it, but the fact that they still carry such paraphernalia is encouraging. You're not going to find that stuff just anywhere.

I'd also like to be able to walk or ride a bike to the market. Not just any market, but a well stocked market that carries local vegetables and traditional staples that keep one connected to the community and help to establish that sense of place. I need a good bookstore, a good coffee shop, a friendly barber, a clean pub, and some shade too. Shade can never be overestimated. I also need to be able to buy local shrimp and oysters. I'm proud of the fact that my six year old daughter knows how to shuck oysters, and as kind a soul as she is, she also knows that crabs are for eating and not for pets.

To me, pluff mud smells heavenly, and the scent of dry pine in the summer heat makes me homesick. I need a garden, although I will complain relentlessly about having to care for it. I need confederate jasmine, azaleas, lady banks roses, hydrangeas, and a few camellias to get me through the dreary albeit short winters. Grass is optional as I prefer ivy. As far as the house itself, lots of windows and a screen porch are my only criteria, unless you count the no vinyl declaration, which is more of an ultimatum than any sort of criteria. Hardie-plank is an acceptable alternative to Cyprus, but only if the original Cyprus has hurricane or insect damage (unlikely in either case).

I would also prefer to be within 50 miles of a college or University. If I have to pass a tractor on my way to pick up some milk, I'm getting warmer. A municipality that would relocate a power pole rather than trim a shade tree would also get high marks. I like the architecture of old churches too, but church-goers...not so much. Proximity to friends is very important, although we fancy ourselves as old souls and believe we have friends everywhere already, whether we have met them yet or not. Sidewalks are also good. If the concrete in the sidewalk contains crushed oyster shells, it's even better.

A place like this couldn't possibly be kept a secret, so a no tourist edict would be impractical. No Myrtle Beach tourist though, they're just plain bad. Bad, bad, bad. Eco-Tourist, maybe, but definitely none of those mini golf aficionados.

I also want some chickens, and maybe a goat too. In my hometown, many people still keep chickens. Some people even have peacocks. The old lady that lived down the street from me where I grew up had two peacocks. They were loud in more ways than one. My mom still refers to the gays as "peacocks” -

"My, he's a real peacock that one is".

Pinnacle Studio 12

2009-01-08T17:58:00.000-08:00

So, my son and I have been goofing around with entry level video editing. He got a handy-cam for his birthday last year and recently showed an interest in digitally editing the scenes he shot, which were mostly of him and his friends skateboarding. We tried windows movie maker, but the product is woefully inadequate for anything other than a quick and dirty title edit. So, when I saw the Pinnacle Software while out Christmas shopping, I just had to get it. We did the walk through and sample "Family Video" that comes with the application. It's truly awesome. Intuitive and easy to use, even for my son... who has the patience of a wet cat. It even came with a "Green-Screen" for chroma-key effects. We haven't got that far, but I can see superman style flying scenes in his future. Check out our first cut...

Christmas fun with the Jedi Mind Trick...

2008-12-29T12:09:00.000-08:00

So, I'm over at the in-laws visiting for Christmas. My nephew (all boy-high-ya-karate kicking eight year old ball of energy) has received quite possibly an illegal amount of geek-laden sci-fi related paraphernalia for Christmas. I think he even got a lightsaber that emanated movie sounds when swooshed in mock battle. On the floor in the living room was a giant box of dragon master inspired action figures. Everything from Star Wars to Halo. I didn't even know there was such a thing. X-Box action figures? C'mon, Really??

So, I'm having a Bourbon with my brother-in-law (father of said nephew) when I comment on the impressive collection...

Me: "You know...He's gonna be that guy"
Brother-in-Law: "What Guy?"
Me: "The 30 year old one who lives in your basement and wears the chewbacca mask to the conventions"
Brother-in-Law: "Your crazy" --perplexed, perhaps terrified...couldn't tell from my angle replies-- "You guys wanna go out and toss the football some??"

Thats what you call the perfect execution of a Jedi mind trick...

Sha-zaaammm!

HP TouchSmart...

2008-12-29T10:07:00.001-08:00

This is the expression I had when I powered up my new 22'' touchsmart PC. Yep. Grinning ear to ear. I can't say it was all surprise though... after all, I picked it out, purchased it, and wrapped it. I was however, quite surprised at how easy it was to get going right out of the box. No messy wires; all peripherals are bluetooth compatible. I plugged the coax into the back and the easy-to-use setup wizard walked me through configuring my TV. That's right, it's a TV too. It starts by asking for your zip code. It then connects to the internet to provide a list of cable providers in your area. You select your provider and it automatically downloads your channel line up and configures your guide. DVR is as easy as it is on your set top box, and it comes with a familiar remote control. Loaded with windows Vista and the latest office suite, it makes a nice homework center / YouTube toy too. When you consider the price of a 22" LCD TV with an integrated DVD Player and recorder, oh yeah, and a computer...the price is definitely right, perhaps even cheaper than purchasing the components separately, and it just happens to be the coolest thing around. Can't you tell by the look on my face??

Almost There...

2008-12-22T21:08:00.001-08:00

My knees are killing me and my back aches, but I'm nearly finished. I still have to add the crown molding and install the shower components. I'm waiting on the latter since I have to order most of the pieces from clawfoot supply. Once the other components are in I'll enjoy a nice soak. So, the punch list is getting smaller...

Install marble threshold
Install doors (closet and bathroom)
Grout the shower wall
Install shower ring
Install the shower fixture
Plumb tub drain and trap
Wall paper the hall
Install the crown molding
Finish painting the wainscoting
Caulk the baseboards
Paint the ceiling

So, all in all not too bad. I managed to get most of it done without any major complications other than the perpetual lack of energy and time. We did have one problem as a result of the master bath rebuild...We had planned on taking advantage of the low interest rates with a refinance. I locked in at a nice 4.7 % fixed rate. I stood to save myself a few hundred dollars a month, but the appraiser showed up when the bathroom was down to the studs with a hole in the floor. He could only calculate our homes value based on one bathroom. He said the value would obviously go up when the area was completed, based on quality of course; but the blow was devastating. With only the one bathroom we were $25,000 to $30,000 dollars off target. We could expect an easy $40,000 dollar return when the project is completed, but the timing couldn't have been worse. So, that $300 dollars a month I was counting on just became a casualty of procrastination. I wish that I had completed the bathroom sooner, but maybe it was fate. Maybe rates will dip even further and I'll save $350 a month.

Drywall Complete

2008-12-19T05:56:00.001-08:00

I've been asked several times why I don't do drywall. People will say "you guys do everything else, what is the problem with drywall?" My response is always the same...a mans got to know his limitations, and mine is drywall. Sure, it's relatively inexpensive at less than four dollars a sheet, but after many attempts, I'm convinced that finishing drywall is an art form perfected over time by skilled craftsman. For instance, when I got home Tuesday evening, I was puzzled by how the crew was able to hang the drywall, mud it, let it dry AND sand it...all in one day. Upon closer examination though, I found my answer. It had not been sanded. That's how unbelievably perfect they feathered the joints; it hadn't been sanded yet but it stilled looked better than my finished work, and they were in and out in two days. It would have taken me twice as long just to hang it. When considering the cost of time, hiring a pro to back you up just makes sense.

Master Bathroom Taking Shape

2008-12-16T09:59:00.000-08:00

Well, my attempt to have the master bath completed before Christmas might actually happen. This has been a long time coming, and as you can see from the photos, it's quite the transformation. This has been without question the most challenging of all of our projects given that the floor was so ridiculously uneven. I did everything I could short of ripping out the entire sub floor and re-framing it. Because this was once a porch, it is pitched somewhat. Not terrible, but I wouldn't want to fumble around in there in the dark; or after a few drinks. Anthony is putting up the drywall today, so I expect to be trimming it out this week. Stay tuned.

Christmas Parade

2008-12-15T08:01:00.000-08:00

The Summerville Christmas Parade was held this past weekend. I was pleasantly surprised by the turnout and the parade itself. There was this little kid in front of us that was maybe six or seven years old. He screamed "Merry Christmas!!" to every float that went by. It must have fired up the volunteers because they all genuinely smiled and waved and repeated his cries for a joyous season. Future head of our chamber of commerce no doubt.

Tiling the Master Bath

2008-11-29T11:18:00.001-08:00

We spent most of the weekend tiling the master bathroom. I used hardie-board as an underlayment and we laid down a classic basket weave mossaic tile. We are very pleased with the way it turned out, although we should have cleaned the grout haze a bit sooner. I ended up having to use a polisher to remove the residue. I didn't want to lay the tile before the dry wall was installed, but circumstances forced the order of precedence. In order to get the huge clawfoot tub into the new space, we needed to leave the area by the door unframed, which meant that the floor needed to be tiled first. Once the tub is in, I'll frame in the door and have the drywall finished. Of course, we'll use Anthony for the drywall work.

On the Obama and National Healthcare

2008-11-08T05:07:00.000-08:00

After Obamas stunning victory Tuesday, I got an email from an old friend asking if we were concerned about the ramifications of socialized national healthcare on our business. I was asked how we would prepare. I was asked if I was happy about the election results. My friend Larry put it best in his response to the recent voting experience...I didn't see "none of the above" on the ballot. Amen brother, and ditto.

So in response to my other friends inquiry...how will we prepare?

I get it, believe me, but I have seen the worst in the business, and yes: healthcare is a business. I want to tell you a story that I think illustrates what I'm talking about here. A few months ago, we were pursuing a contract with a 42 bed rehab facility (physical, not substance). The facility was across the street from a major hospital, and seen many of the long term care patients after they were discharged from the neighboring acute care facility.

Patients that have been sedentary for an extended period of time can develop blood clots in their lower extremities, a potentially deadly condition called DVT (deep vein thrombosis). This condition is easily detected by MRI with contrast, but MRI is expensive and insurance companies won't pay for it simply to rule out a certain condition. DVT is also easily diagnosed with vascular ultrasound, a portable and much less expensive modality. Still, insurance won't cover the DVT ultrasound because in such cases it would be considered a screening, and therefore unnecessary.

Lets compound the problem...The rehab center is scared to death of DVT. If they admit a patient that has all of the classic warning signs of potential DVT...swelling, edema, sedentary for an extended period, trauma or surgery in the lower extremities... then they are assuming a huge liability. What if the clot breaks loose when they put the patient into physical therapy? The patient could die. Would the family sue the insurance company? The hospital? No, of course not...they sue the rehab center. So since the rehab center is not chartered to do diagnostic imaging, they would simply admit the patients, never take them off the gurney, then turn right around and send them back to the hospital for an ultrasound...on the rehab center's dime of course, because an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, right?

This whole ordeal is like a six hour process for the patient. Oh, and how do they get them back to the hospital for the ultrasound? Ambulance of course. $400 dollars each way. So, here we come...we show up on our white horses offering to bring the ultrasound to the rehab center for a flat fee, everybody wins, right?

When talking to the administrator of the rehab center I discovered perhaps the most disturbing bit of insight that I had heard in years. While we were trying to negotiate a time frame that we could arrive and see his patients, he informs me quite casually that they never admit patients from the hospital across the street before 2pm. This presented a small challenge for me since I only had two morning slots available. If he wanted afternoons, I would have to rearrange a tech or go hire someone. Not a big issue, but big enough for me to pry a little deeper.

"So, why do you only admit in the afternoon?" I asked. "Simple", he says with a perplexed, "I can't believe I have to explain this" sort of look on his face... "The first shift nursing staff at the hospital across the street get off at three in the afternoon. If they release a patient before two, they have to prep the room for a new patient, set IV's, capture the new patients vitals, etc. You know, do some actual work. If they release their patients after 2pm, the second shift has to admit the new patients."

So there you have it. Now you know. Now you know why you have to wait forever. It is sad really, but very, very true. Fixing that is to fix our collective morality, and althouh Obama's good, I've seen no water-walking from the guy yet.

Tagged and Released.

2008-08-18T07:29:00.001-07:00

We hit the "secret spot" again this past Friday. I ended up empty handed, but D landed this really nice 32" spot. She had been previously tagged, but he'll report her ID to DNR so they can track her location. Not that it matters, but you get a free T-Shirt out of the deal too. This fish was landed, again, with a root beer colored tube jig, and it ran out damn near a full spool and took some real work to revive once it finally gave in. He had to drag her out to deeper water to get her moving again, but she eventualy swam off under her own power. Not ten minutes later he landed another, slightly larger one. I wasn't so lucky. I spooked one with a bad cast, and had some poor casting attempts at others. This sight fishing for Reds takes some skill, and I'm begining to think that I have very little of what skills are required. I'll keep trying, and will keep you posted on my progress.

Master Bathroom Remodel (read "REBUILD")

2008-08-18T06:42:00.000-07:00

I got tired of the disgusting bathroom and ripped it out, thinking that the vast expanse of emptiness and the inconvenience of four people sharing one bathroom might help to motivate me. It has. So far I have entirely gutted the space, which included cutting out the fiberglass tub enclosure, removing the commode, and ripping out a horribly designed closet that cut the bathroom in half. I then had to level the floor, which essentially meant skinning it with 1/4 inch OSB. I then ripped out the really, really bad drywall job since I needed to reroute the plumbing and electrical anyway. I'll have Anthony come in and finish it off when I'm ready to close it up. We plan to tile a traditional black and white octagonal mosaic, with subway tile on the shower wall. This is going to be a traditional bathroom design, in keeping with the character of the house. I hope that it will go quickly once the drywall is completed. The large claw foot tub will be the center piece of the room, set on an angle. Exposed chrome fillers and drain piping will accent the installation. In the corner I have framed in a shower wall which will feature an exposed chrome shower fixture with a separate Victorian hand shower attachment. All of the fixtures will be the same victorian style chrome. As with past projects, we put together a spend plan and budget and try to adhere to it as best that we can. So far we have done pretty good sticking to the plan. Some of the fixtures are shown below...

John Carneys 101 tips for living

2008-05-28T12:01:00.000-07:00

You should never have to match your socks, other than to separate black from white; buy 18 pairs of identical socks in each color and throw them all out every six months.
Pants with pleats get cuffs; pants without, do not.
Avoid large faced watches if you have thin wrists.
Sunglasses may only be worn indoors after 1 a.m.
Carry around those small bottles of hand sanitizer and use some before you eat.
Business casual was invented to prevent younger people from dressing better than their bosses. Rebel and wear a suit or jeans.
If you need to put stuff in your hair to add shine or hold, you are washing your hair too often.
Yes, you do have to floss.
If you are handling a small baggy in a bathroom stall, face away from the open toilet and you will never drop it in there.
When a friend calls after a drunken night, never say, “You were so funny.”
Avoid staying out past midnight three nights in a row.
You can ignore the three-night rule if something really good comes up on the third night.
You will regret your tattoos.
If you wear a baseball cap in bars, the girls will suspect you are bald.
Go to more baseball games.
Time is too short to do your own laundry.
When the bartender asks, you should already know what you are ordering.
Learn how to speak before groups.
An undershirt will prevent you from perspiring through your overshirt.
Yes, you do have to go to the gym.
Complaining about other people smoking makes you an ass.
Stop talking about where you went to college.
When people don’t invite you to parties, you really shouldn’t go.
Sometimes even when you are invited, you shouldn’t go.
You can ignore those rules about parties if it is a really, really good party.
Drink plenty of coffee.
People are tired of you being the funny, drunk guy.
When in doubt, always kiss the girl.
Tip more than you should.
If a book is too big to carry around comfortably, cut it up and carry the pages you can read.
Yes, you do have to have your shoes shined.
It’s okay to arrive late.
You probably use your cell phone too often and at the wrong moments.
Do not spend very much money on sunglasses or umbrellas. You will lose them quickly.
Do thirty-push ups before you shower each morning.
Eat brunch with friends every other weekend.
Be a regular at a bar.
Read more. And not just biographies.
If her friends hate you, it’s over.
A glass of wine with lunch will not ruin your day.
It’s better if old men cut your hair. They should charge less than $20.
If you smoke pot, you probably smoke too much.
Learn how to fly-fish.
Ask for a salad instead of fries.
Pretty women who are unaccompanied want you to talk to them. Ask someone for an introduction.
You cannot always make amends with people.
Buy furniture that you think is too small for your apartment. It isn’t.
Cobblers will save your shoes.
Figure out what kind of knot you like in your ties and stick with it.
The first round of drinks is on you.
When a bartender buys you a round, tip double.
Hang your clothes up when you take them off.
Except sweaters. Those get folded.
Piercings are liabilities in fights.
You’ll regret much more the things you didn’t do than the things you did.
Do not buy the product insurance.
Except for mobile phones. Always insure the phone.
Celebrate mothers on Father’s Day, and fathers on Mother’s Day.
You may remove your jacket and roll up your sleeves. The tie may not be loosened.
It’s not that you’re unphotogenic. That’s just how you look.
Do not use an electric razor.
Desserts are for women. Order one and pretend you don’t mind that she’s eating yours.
Keep rugs and carpets to a minimum.
Carry a pocket knife.
Buy a tuxedo before you are thirty. Stay that size.
Subscribe to a small-circulation magazine.
It should have a cork-screw. The knife. Not the magazine.
One girlfriend is probably enough.
After one day of hanging, your tie should be rolled and placed in a drawer.
People will dance if the music is loud enough and the lights are dim enough. You should too.
Throw parties. But don’t clean up during or after your party. Hire someone else to come do that the next day, which you’ll be spending somewhere else.
You may only request one song from the DJ.
Take pictures. One day it will be fun to laugh at them.
When you admire the work of artists or writers, tell them.
And spend money to acquire their work.
Sleep outdoors when you can.
Your clothes do not match. They go together.
Yes, you do have to buy her dinner.
Staying angry is a waste of energy.
Revenge can be a good way of getting over anger.
Go to the theater.
Always bring a bottle of something to the party.
Ask cab drivers not to speak on the phone.
When the bouncer says it’s time for you to leave, it is.
Do not make a second date while you are still on your first.
Avoid the “last” glass of whiskey. You’ve probably had enough.
If you are wittier than you are handsome, avoid very loud clubs.
Drink outdoors.
Drink during the day.
Date women outside your social set. You’ll be surprised.
If it’s got velvet ropes and lines, walk away unless you know someone.
You should probably walk away anyway.
See more bands than you have been recently.
You cannot have a love affair with whiskey because whiskey will never love you back.
Place-dropping is worse than name dropping.
The New Yorker is not a high-brow magazine.
You aren’t really a great DJ. Those people are dancing because they are drunk.
Don’t let that discourage you. If they’re having fun, you are doing your job.
If you believe in evolution, you should know something about how it works.
No-one cares if you are offended, so stop it.
Eating out alone can be magnificent. Find a place where you can eat at the bar.
Get out of the city every now and then.
The parties you miss won’t miss you. And you won’t really miss them either.
Never date an ex of your friend.

Reclaiming the porch

2008-05-09T07:54:00.000-07:00

My wife and I have a punch list a mile long. The remodel has taken its toll on us both physically as well as financially. The momentum has slowed over the winter, but with the mild weather we have experienced recently we thought we would refocus our efforts to the outdoor spaces. Our grounds are really nice, with mature indigenous plantings covering most of the lot. We have camellias, azaleas, hydrangeas, jasmine and honeysuckle growing everywhere. Wisteria covers the entire canopy. We also have the largest Sycamore tree in town, as well as several Live Oaks, a Bald Cyprus, and two huge Magnolia trees. And in keeping with the Carolina tradition, we have a nice Palmetto tree out back. Since we converted the garage into our office space, all of those things you might normally find in ones garage have resided on our screen porch… for two years.

The screen porch was one of the biggest attractions for us when we purchased the property, but with no real storage alternatives we have yet to enjoy it. Our lawn tools have been rusting under the eaves of the house and I kept a large galvanized tub over my mower. The kid’s bikes have long since been consumed by the elements. Our goal has been to create some storage and reclaim our screen porch. As soon as I had saved enough money I began researching shed plans, but my initial idea of building my own storage shed was overruled by my wife who argued that it would take me the entire summer to complete. She insisted we could have it finished in a weekend for just a few hundred dollars more if we opted to purchase it from one of the home centers. I feared that the campy barn designs would not fit the character of our home but was pleasantly surprised to find a nice boathouse design complete with a cupola and weather vane. Not custom built, but considerably more character than that of the ubiquitous Dutch barn.

She was right; they finished the shed in one day. We painted it to match the house, which incidentally, took longer than it did to build. I completely filled the 8’x12’ structure and still had more stuff on the porch, so I decided to build a small lean-to garden shed. I planned it to fit a 4’x 8’ footprint, so laying it out was simple. I framed and sheathed it in one day. We took Sunday off to attend the Blessing of the Fleet at Alhambra Hall, the annual Shrimp Season kickoff in Mt Pleasant. We met up with friends and had a great time. The weather was nice and the breeze coming in off the harbor kept the heat bearable. When we got home, I still had a few hours of daylight left, so I went ahead and shingled the roof. Although somewhat inebriated, I still managed to finish it up without falling off the structure or shooting a nail through any of my exposed digits.

Big Red !

2008-04-19T07:27:00.000-07:00

Thanks to a coworker who didn't mind sharing his "secret spot", I landed this 26'' tailing spot friday night. I havent had that much fun in years, great company, great fishing, just an all around awesome time. I understand the reasons people closely gaurd their prized fishing spots, but for those of us lucky enough to be included in the circle of trust, the rewards are tremendous. I'd love to tell you where this is, but I wan't to fish this spot again and revealing its location just wouldn't be right. I'm sure you'll understand! Four fish in all, two trout and two big reds. As you can see from the rather grainy cell phone photo, I'm standing in knee deep water in a flooded cordgrass marsh. We were using light spinning tackle, and this cow was caught with a Berkley inshore tube jig like this:

Fax Router

2008-02-22T13:00:00.000-08:00

OK, so here was the problem...SWI Diagnostics is a mobile company, a small and limited staff mobile company at that. As a result, we rely heavily on technology to help us keep our heads above water. Our work flow for final reports simply wasn't working. The studies themselves were transmited securely enough through a VPN tunnel using a DICOM compliant PACS system, but the technologist's worksheet had to be faxed to the reading physician separately. The radiologist would dictate the study and send the dictation file to the transcriptionist, who would then send the final back to the radiologist for his digital signature. Only then would the final report be sent back to us, at which time we would route it via fax back to the originating physician. It was a nightmare, especially when you're on the road doing studies, as far away from the fax machine as you can get. I needed to be able to route incoming faxes to an email account as a PDF attachment, and there are plenty of Internet fax services out there that will do that for you for a price. eFax is around sixteen bucks a month plus something like seventy cents a sheet. With any volume that solution would quickly add up to more than we were willing to spend. The Fax Services Manager available in Microsoft Server 2003 and SBS will also route faxes via SMTP gateways, but that also seemed like a bit of an extreme since I was running XP pro on every machine in my network. Mixed clients don't work well for Microsoft. So, whats the answer here? Write our own fax router of course. Which is exactly what I set out to do over the weekend. The windows fax console embedded in XP SP2 seemed to send and receive faxes just fine, and it placed the converted tiff file in a directory of my choosing with just a few out of the box configurations. My solution was to develop a windows service using visual studio that would essentially invoke a filesystemwatcher component on the incoming fax directory that I set up during the fax console initial configuration. Whenever a new file arrived in the folder, I would capture the file name and pass it as a parameter to a simple smtp function I wrote to route the file as an email attachment to any address I specified. I used the System.Net.Mail namespace to accomplish this. Also, I used the GMail smtp server since I don't run the mail protocol on my machines. It works great. Our techs are now able to receive faxed orders on their mobile devices, regardless of where they are. I am working on a module to evaluate the fax header information in order to develop routing rules so that I can use the application to automatically send a carbon copy fax to the referring physician as soon as we receive the incoming fax of the final report. This is a huge step forward for our operation, and I'd be happy to post the source code for anyone who might be interested in the router. It is fully configurable and uses a modest xml file to store its connection parameters.

Best Damn Tee Shirts EVER!!!

2008-02-15T20:43:00.000-08:00

Cougar Hunter...Thats funny. I'm get 'in dat. Oh, and Americas Hat? Yeah, luvin it like McLuvin.

DixieLand Delight Tour...The DDT

2008-02-14T18:18:00.000-08:00

Dixeland Delight is the story of sports columnist and lifelong UT fan, Clay Travis, who visited all 12 SEC stadiums in the fall of 2006 to truly experience, understand and appreciate college football in the South. The result is an entertaing and if I dare say, even enlightening look at the South, it's football, and its history. Hell you may even learn something useful, like say that Mississippi State fans love their cowbells, or that Auburn tailgaters offer moonshine, and according to Jamie, that Georgia co-eds have fake boobs. Clay’s travels meander over nine southern states, he's smart...a Vanderbilt Law School alum, but he's also funny as hell. Remember, this is a guy who a few years ago went on a pudding-only diet in protest of the NFL not televising games in the US Virgin Islands. His writing style is witty but not pretentious, and he's got an assload of knowledge of SEC football. SEC or not, if you call yourself a fan, pick up a copy of "Dixieland Delight" today.

"Travis grew up a University of Tennessee football fan, and it was clear early on he would remain one for his entire life. That's typical in the Southeastern Conference, where football on Saturdays is about as natural as butter on toast. Travis takes us with him as he chronicles the 2006 season on the SEC bandwagon. Armed with only a copy of the Volunteers' 12-game schedule, he follows the team's path, determined to wing it when it comes to finding game tickets and places to sleep along the way. Travis coins his journey the DDT (Dixieland Delight Tour) and records his impressions one week at time. Summing up his more than 8,000 miles of road traveled, Travis shares his "Lessons from the DDT," 18 nuggets of wisdom such as "No matter what fan base you're a part of, at least 15 percent of your fans suck. Really suck." There's plenty of football in these pages, but it's the irreverent attitude and willingness to make fun of one's own obsessions that give the account its zip." Wilkens, Mary Frances

Porch for the side entrance

2008-02-03T11:58:00.000-08:00

Here is the finished porch we built for the office. This started out as replacing a glass paned raised panel entry door that had seen better days. It was a security problem more than anything else. There was no real door frame, it seemed the frame was built around the door, which was out of square. I actually ruined a good door blank trying to cut it down to fit the opening. I finaly relented and just rebuilt the rough opening correctly.

The Jack and Jill bathroom...Finally!!!

2008-02-02T14:13:00.000-08:00

So, I've finally finished the bathroom. I hope you enjoy the pictures. Actually, this has been done for some time, I just havent gotten around to posting the finished product. As a testiment to to usefulness of this new layout, I didn't even tidy up before shooting these...I swear. I did move the clothes hamper though. The addition of the linen closet was the best thing we could have done, and converting the space into the Jack and Jill layout between the kids bedrooms was a stroke of genious if I do say so myself!

The Crescent Recommends the 03 Merlot

2007-12-18T12:46:00.001-08:00

I’m often asked my opinion on the mundane. What I think of this or how I feel about that…as if my judgment actually comes from some sort of rational thought. Sometimes the query is for an introspective contemplation on topics of a much deeper nature; politics, social injustice, or perhaps even religion. I rarely indulge...preferring instead to stick with self reflections no deeper than that of my favorite pop-tart flavor. It doesn’t mean that I’m shallow. To the contrary; In fact, I think you can learn equally as much about a personality by studying ones obscenely ordinary preferences. Equally as much as, lets say...watching one stumble to cohesively articulate a much less mundane political view. With that, I’ve compiled a list of completely trivial things I’m currently very high on and thus fully recommend...

Wilco
I thoroughly enjoy the Sky Blue Sky release. I wish I could play guitar.

The best of Craig’s list.
Absolutely hysterical shit. If you find yourself in need of a good laugh, and you will, there’s no better pick-me-up than the best of Craigslist.

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole
A true American masterpiece. I have heard that Hollywood has been trying to adapt the Pulitzer Prize winning novel into a movie since the early 1980’s. I hope that Toole’s curse will hold out so that the literary version won’t be tarnished by the likes of Will Ferrell.

Andolinies Pizza. Period.

Betts Brand Super Pro Cast Nets
The best there is, designed by master craftsmen. This isn't your Wal-Mart variety castnet. Cast like a Frisbee, open it every time, sinks like a rock.

Blanton’s Single Barrel Kentucky Bourbon
Pricey but not pretentious. Smmmooothh, but please…no soda. Ice or water only.

Winter Reds in the Wando, North of Denton’s Shipyard
Nothing like pulling in a half dozen or so double deuces on cut mullet to get your blood pumping.

Charmin with Aloe.
No cheap shit tickets. I’ve reached a point in my life where I can splurge a little. It’s not like the stuff is gold plated, but it makes a difference that I’m willing to pay extra for.

The Triangle in Avondale.
Mmmmmmmm. Great for brunch on Sunday. Try the French toast, its awesome…best Bloody Marys off the peninsula or you can express your gayness with the bottomless mimosas for $10 with an entree.

Amy Sedaris
I loved her in "Strangers with Candy", but the bootleg you-tubage featuring her "I like You" book tour is insane. Her brother David’s not bad either. I read "Me talk pretty one day" while on the plane to Jacksonville. I enjoyed it, but felt awkwardly insecure reading it in public. I folded the cover around toward the inside. Funny thing…I liked it so much I did one of those "if you like David Sedaris you'll love so and so" searches on Google. I found Augusten Burroughs' "Running with scissors". Also uncomfortably gay. Better to just tear the damn cover off of that one.

Zaxbys
The grilled chicken sandwich meal is an excellent bargain at $4.99 plus tax. Swap the honey mustard for Zax sauce though. It’s on the weekday lunch rounds. Makes a good Tuesday or Wednesday.

Scrabble.
I love scrabble. I use to play the venerable board game with my mother when I was younger. I learned the art of placing the "q" on the triple letter score square at an early age. I rediscovered scrabble over a bottle of good bourbon with my wife a few years ago. We were staying at the beach. The weather had turned bad. The power was out and all we had were the paperbacks and board games that filled the built-ins of our rental; remnants from the many years of past guest. We set up shop and played by candlelight on the screened porch. The wind that was whipped up by the late afternoon thunderstorm rattled the overgrown myrtles shading the property and made the experience that much more memorable. We still play scrabble when it rains.

Free Advice! Free Advice!

2007-11-30T11:36:00.000-08:00

If you’re considering self employment let me be the first to say - go for it man. It can be the most rewarding thing you will ever do. It could also be the biggest pain in your ass you’ll ever experience, and I mean the large inmate, prison rape kind of pain in the ass. I've been doing this for some time, and believe me; I've made my share of mistakes. I've also stumbled across a good decision here and there. So, since I'm in a generous sort of mood, I've decided to compile some choice nuggets for those of you who have either recently started a business or are considering taking the proverbial leap of faith. Consider this free advice, wisdom from lessons learned if you will.

First, if you're a small business owner, you already know (or should already know) that one of your greatest challenges is the challenge of providing value to your customer at all times. Now, that value can either be real or perceived. You can over analyze that statement all you want, but the fact is that in the end, you want people to feel like they are getting their moneys worth, or at least that they leave feeling as if they were treated better than they would have been treated had they gone to see your competitor. I use the word "feel" for a reason, because honestly, you could care less how their experience would have been across the street. You just want them to think it’s always a better experience at your place. That doesn't mean you get an open license to publicly blast your competition in front of potential customers. In fact, that angle more often than not backfires, and it makes you look like an asshat. Between true value and perceived value, perceived value is the most ubiquitous. Wanna know why Americans are so damn fat? Because Outback and Applebee’s and TGI Fridays and Bennegan’s and O'Charlies have all figured out that by serving you big ass portions, portions that you cant possibly eat in one sitting, they are creating a very lucrative perceived value. You, the fat ass customer, end up thinking that you're getting more for your money. More than let’s say, if you had gone to Olive Garden. Hey, here’s a thought... maybe that endless salad bowl isn't such a bad idea after all. Anyway, the point is that the perception of value is often more powerful than value itself. Why? Because it doesn't cost Chili's squat to heap on an extra pound of mashed potatoes, even if it ends up in the trash. They will gain so much more when you leave feeling fat and happy. You'll gain a few things too, by the way.

Second, as a rule, don’t ever misrepresent yourself, your experience, your service, or anything about your business. In short, cut the bullshit. People hate bullshit. I mean, you would think that one is common sense, but then again maybe collective wisdom isn't really as common as it should be. So it’s not surprising that we're a victim of shit slinging more often than we should be. If you're the a owner of a small business hocking goods or services to the general public, and it's just you, I mean...just you as in no other employees or help, do us all a favor and refrain from using misleading statements such as "we" offer the best blah, blah, blah or "our team of qualified professionals". If you're a sole proprietor-- and the only one on the job, just say so. There’s no shame in being an owner operator. People often make that mistake because they think it's always better to portray some sort of image that their company is larger or more established than it really is. Don't do it! It's disingenuous and retarded. Imagine meeting your soul mate online. (I know it's a goofy analogy, but humor me here...) Imagine meeting someone, I mean really meeting "the one". You guys hit it off right away and start chatting it up every day for months. You tell each other everything. You have really fallen for each other. Then one day she tells you that she's really into you and wants to meet in person. Problem is, those were Jude Law's abs in that shirtless photo you sent her of yourself back on day two. Nice job asshat. Now what?? It's the same thing with your business. What happens when your "extensive resources" can't deliver because YOU'RE SICK??? What happens when your "eager staff" has to pick up YOU'RE KIDS??

Lastly, don't give your shit away. TIME IS MONEY, if you've spent time on it, charge for it! I have a friend who's a high-end trim carpenter. I'm talking about a real old school craftsman. The kind of stuff where the crown and baseboards fit so tight that no caulk is needed. He also builds custom wood shutters, those Spanish Cedar Bermuda beauties you often find on historically correct eighteenth century houses on Tradd Street. He told me once that some competitors confronted him at a jobsite on the peninsula and angrily asked him how he got away with charging so much. He told them that value is not the same as price. Value is what someone is willing to pay for something, if that something happens to be perceived to be of a higher value, it will command a higher price. Over the years he had created the perception of being the very best. Are their others just as good? Sure there are... but this is the guy that built those custom mahogany bookshelves over on their buddies Edisto Island Estate. He has created a perception of value every bit as lucrative as that pound of mashed potatoes they heap on your big ass extra value meal.

New DICOM Compression and Transfer Server

2007-10-21T08:39:00.000-07:00

So, for the last two weeks or so a friend and I have been working on a secure file transfer server to host connections from mobile ultrasound units across the state. The initial problem revolved around the DICOM protocol itself...bulky and bandwidth intensive. Even with 512 up, it was taking 15-20 minutes to submit one study to our Radiologist in the upstate. As we continue to grow, the limitation becomes more and more restrictive. The design we came up with is ingeniously simple...move the entire DICOM directory directly from the modality onto a laptop via a crossover cable and a DICOM SCU association, since its local it's relatively quick. Once stored on the laptops file system, the user will open our secure client. The client has three simple operations: Connect, Transfer, and Upload reports. Its' what goes on behind the scenes that is critical. We wanted to be able to access the file system of our remote Server at our home office from each mobile client. All transferred data is strongly encrypted, and for optimal bandwidth utilization the uploaded/downloaded files are compressed/decompressed transparently during the transmission. The standard FTP protocol seems to be too limited and slow. We built in low-level access to the remote files as if they were local. Essentially, the client zips up the entire DICOM directory, connects to a secure FTP server, transfers the ZIP file, and closes the connection. The Server decrypts the file and unzips the file, recreating the DICOM directory on the host server. the PACS server points to the shared directory behind the firewall. Typical files get around 46% compression, and the transfer time is cut from nearly 20 minutes down to about 4 minutes. We tested with a four hop trace route and a 280Mb compressed file. Extreme performance. Most of the low level file sharing and encryption is using the BigSpeed component.

New site is up...

2007-09-05T07:15:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, we have been transforming our business from an elective 3D ultrasound service into a full diagnostic Mobile IDTF. The process has been slow but deliberate, and we have made great progress both in refining our service value, as well as in getting the word out. We have some very good physicians on board and we are pleased with the transformation to date. I had set initial goals to bring on additional accounts, as well as to branch out into the sub-specialty area of musculoskeletal ultrasound. MSK, as it is known, is an incredible asset to orthopedic surgeons in the real-time evaluation of procedural efficacy. Think of rotator cuff range of motion evaluations after surgery, in stunning 3D clarity. By combining MSK, Vascular, and general ultrasound services along with Per Diem technical coverage and accreditation support services, the doors are wide open for growth. We also changed our corporate image and have adopted a new more professional look and feel. Our website has also been transformed by this new and improved attitude. Take a look at it here. I'll have to give the credit there to my friend and long time colleague, Larry Collete. Larry and family will be making the move to South Korea soon, and we'll miss him while he's away on his far east adventure. Thanks Again Zonka.

Overdue update

2007-07-17T08:31:00.001-07:00

OK, I've been pretty lame about posting lately. We've just been so busy that I haven't had the time. In my own defense, I actually got back into the swing of things and began working on the house again. The project list has narrowed some as we were able to knock out most of those smaller efforts that have been lingering around. I've found that I have to ease myself back into home improvement projects; like maybe replacing that threshold before jumping head first into a bathroom remodel. They weren’t all straight off of the minor punch list though, some big projects got completed in the blog-hiatus as well. We had new Pella replacement windows installed throughout the house. The difference is remarkable, both in aesthetics as well as efficiency. I also added a porch to the side door of the office, oh, and I replaced the door and repainted too. That one little entry doesn’t do the porch effort any justice though, we had to replace a considerable amount of rotten siding and do a whole bunch of prep work to make that happen. The stairs were repainted and the railing was completely rebuilt. I also designed and built a custom lattice screen for under the stairs. I'll post after pictures soon; I didn't shoot any images of the work in progress. I also completed fiberglassing the pirogue, well, mostly. I still have a little finishing work to do on that. I installed recessed lights in the parlor, and began the Jack and Jill bath that I have been avoiding for six months. I will take before and after pictures of that effort since we have already purchased most of the materials and I feel pretty comfortable that we won't be winging the design. I'm glad to actually see progress again. I think the windows have inspired me. We have actually made a wants vs needs list, itemized and budgeted the remaining work. I think we can finish for 12 to 15k. That will include a storage shed out back for the lawn tools, and a nice double layer deck wich a nice gas grill and custom lighting on the skirt. The back forty will also be landscaped. I'm also going to install double interior French doors to separate the living room from the office. The old house is really starting to come together, finally. I'm going to go home and shoot some pictures, and I promise to be more diligent in my posting.

End of an Era

2007-06-07T11:28:00.000-07:00

The venerable Bob Barker is calling it quits as the host of the Price is Right after thirty five years presiding over the showcase showdown. At eighty two, Barker reportedly said he wanted to "retire while he was still young". I have fond memories of the Price is Right, not necessarily the show itself, but all that it represented; that nostalgia of the seventies. If the Price is Right was on, you were either A: Out of School for some reason or B: On Summer Break. I remember when he finally decided to embrace his age and quit dying his hair that Ricky Riccardo Black. I remember all those Cal state college girls bouncing down the aisle as the next contestant on the Price is Right. They always won the T-Topped Monte Carlo, because who knew the price of LaChoy Ramein Noodles better than a college student? Ahhh. Good Times. God's Speed Bob.

Pirogue History

2007-05-30T10:32:00.000-07:00

Since I began building my Bayou Pirogue, I have become increasingly more inquisitive about the history of the watercraft and it's use in the coastal south. As it turns out, there is quite a bit of heritage attached to these flat bottomed, shallow drafting craft. In fact, according to research compiled by the Army Corp of Engineers, the boats were infamous in Louisiana waterways during the Cival War. Before attacking Confederate Fort Burton, Union troops raided the nearby basin, confiscating sugar, molasses, cotton and firearms from Bayou residents. These raids by Union troops became increasingly frequent and made life more difficult for the local residents.

Union forces defeated the Confederates at Bisland, Grand Lake and Fort Burton in the spring of 1863, giving them control of the surrounding waterways wherever they could operate armored gunboats, and the Confederates could not match the firepower of these Vessels. Even with this advantage, though, Confederate guerrilla forces, as well as jayhawkers and smugglers, constantly harassed the Union forces, especially in the summer of 1864. Jayhawkers were roaming bands of deserters, draft dodgers and criminals who infested much of the backwater Bayous of Louisiana during the last three years of the war. Confederate irregular forces used the familiar terrain of the basin to their advantage, relying upon pirogues, skiffs and horses in their hit and-run forays against the federals. To deal with these problems, the Union command decided to destroy all ferries, bridges and boats in the basin as well as confiscate all contraband goods. Anything not produced locally, including flour, salt and other staples, became unavailable to residents. These policies antagonized local Union sympathizers and hindered the collection of intelligence. In November 1864, the Union command conceded that small loyal planters in the basin could keep their pirogues if they were hidden at night from "guerrilla thieves".
I am taking my time in the construction of my Cyprus Pirogue. I have decided to include chine blocks on the interior for the added stability. I want to be able to maneuver the boat with a punt while standing. I've decided that the lower Edisto past Parkers Ferry will be where the pirogue makes her maiden voyage. Hopefully it will be completed by the time we take our annual vacation to Edisto Island in the later part of June. I'm going to add fore and aft decks as well as a keel strip to increase its stability. It is widely known that the Pirogue is a "tricky" boat, meaning one might get wet while learning to pilot it standing up. I'm experienced in a canoe, so using the eddies and current of the Edisto to my advantage is something I am fully capable of, but tossing an eight foot cast net off the bow of a flat bottom boat less that 28'' wide and 10'' deep is not a challenge for the faint at heart. Trying it out at dead low tide in June is the most prudent plan, of course my kids will video tape the whole ordeal in case the inevitable happens and I go over the side with the first cast.

Networking DICOM enabled devices

2007-05-21T06:35:00.000-07:00

Over the last few weeks I have been working with our Radiologists' IT guy, Randy, to optimize the virtual private network (VPN) between our PACS servers. The initial configuration has been working in a pull mode, but now we finally have a true point to point secure network. Sean, a colleague of mine from SPAWAR helped design the network. He has a ton of experience designing network security systems for both ship and shore based applications. Another SPAWAR guy we know, a true old school network engineer, has been developing teleradiology solutions for Navy Medicine since the technology emerged. Actually, Navy Medicine is one of my largest sponsors, so I also have a great deal of experience with the nuances and overarching regulatory requirements for medical networks. Just as it is for a small branch medical clinic in the military, if a small civilian family practice wanted to get into telemedicine or teleradiology, there would be very few options out there without going through the big box vendors like GE or Phillips. We find that in the defense environment, even though the medical activities rely heavily on technology, they do not have the resources required to implement information assurance and security effectively. After all, Information Technology isn't their core competency; medicine is. That's where commands like SPAWAR come in. We have the experience and know-how to integrate common off the shelf products to create a layered network protection strategy. We can help the medical commands insure HIPAA compliance. We figured the same holds true for private practice in the civilian world, even for small rural hospitals. We have been kicking around the idea of doing some consulting work through SWI diagnostics, my wife’s LLC. Her customer base is heavily rural, and initial conversations with some of these folks have generated a very positive reception. Although we may initially have to drive to Georgetown to reboot a print server for fifty bucks, we will eventually open the door to an array of future support functions, including helping rural practices go digital and securely connecting them to the outside world. Second opinions from university hospital specialist are only a click away.

Wall of Mediocrity

2007-05-18T05:48:00.000-07:00

I ran across an interesting article in Slate magazine last week about unwitting parents who lavish their offspring with praise, even at the most mundane accomplishment. It has been a pet-peeve of mine for years, ever since my son’s first tee-ball practice. All of the "Oh, your soooo Awesomes" have taken a toll on me. I have no problem giving praise when it's warranted, but I've always thought that bombarding your kids with undeserved praise was more than a disservice, but a detrimental travesty that would eventually lead to some sort of group therapy. I got a good laugh out of Greg Fockers "Wall of Gaylord" in the movie "Meet the Fockers", where the mediocrity of Ben Stillers character was celebrated as spirited achievement in a shrine-like display erected by his father. This subject has always touched a nerve with me, and unfortunately in our society the behavior has become more ubiquitous. You see it everywhere...Parents showering praise for even the most meager of efforts. I know so many people like this, it turns my stomach. Here is an excerpt from the article:

The Wall Street Journal reported last month on the travails of employers faced with twenty- and thirtysomethings who've been told how brilliant and wonderful and special they are all their lives. The article tells of a consultant who counsels a manager to praise young employees for showing up on time after a pattern of lateness. How does one conjure a compliment out of "pathetic" and "entitled"? A personality test for narcissism given to college students every year shows an inexorable rise, with today's students being on average 30 percent more narcissistic than the students of 1982. Substitute "self-esteem" for "narcissism" and the results suddenly look rosy, but you simply can't, because all the $10 trophies and the lavish praise of mediocrity, or even failure, doesn't really bolster kids' self-worth. They drink the Kool-Aid, but they also know it.

Stanford psychologist Carol Dweck concluded that it's not praise itself that's the problem, but rather the kind of praise we pile on our kids. You’ve heard it a million times, “you’re soo smart” or “you’re the best player on the team!”, when what we should be praising is the hard work and the effort. Dweck speculates that if you tell a kid he's smart , the only place he's got to go is down, thereby avoiding challenges and freezing at the thought of failure, but tell him you admire his determination and he'll keep plugging away, bettering himself in the process.

Boat Fever

2007-05-17T10:08:00.000-07:00

I am a huge fan of wooden boats, so the Charleston Maritime festival this weekend is definitely on my to do list, and I have my boarding passes in hand. For several years I have attended the holy city's maritime festival and watched longingly as others participated in the family boat building event. The family boat building event introduces novices to the wonderful craft of wooden boat building, where experts mentor families as they construct a small skiff from pre-cut materials. The event culminates with a launch party. I have threatened to sign up for the event every year, but as usual, we waited until the last minute to register. The family boat building event only accommodates twenty entries, and it fills pretty quickly as one might imagine. Feeling a bit overworked and disappointed that I missed the cut again this year, I vowed to build my own wooden boat. This was no overnight decision. I knew what design I wanted build and have had her plans in my head for years. So, with a bit of research and a few phone calls, my son and I are well on our way to building a classic Bayou Pirogue (pronounced pee-row). The pirogue was first introduced to the bayou in the late 1600's. It is somewhat of a mystery how the pirogue got to Louisiana, but it has been there for centuries and has become a part of the Cajun heritage. Originally the pirogue was hewn from large cypress logs, some measuring more than 12 feet in diameter. The cypress log was split down the middle. Then the outside of the log was shaped to the builders liking using only an ax and an adze. After finishing the outside, it was turned over so that the insides could be "scooped" out with an adze and other chisels. I ordered measured drawings from UncleJohns.com, and a supply of epoxy resin and wood flour from http://www.raka.com/. Larry Steeves, owner of Raka, inc. was a huge help, and has built a pirogue himself. I also spent some time researching construction techniques and found that by increasing the length and width of the vessel it would be a much more stable craft. A few of the images are of Tom Hills pirogue. Constructed in North Carolina, Tom's version is a faithful derivative of the classic bayou pirogue. I have set up the sawhorses and the tailgate tent on the patio and I can't wait to get started, I'll make sure to post plenty of step by step pictures. I haven't done much fiberglass work, so this should be fun. See you guys at the festival!

Final Touches

2007-05-15T05:49:00.000-07:00

I took a couple of hours yesterday to put the finishing touches on the new office bathroom. I'm really very pleased with the results. It turned out far better than I had hoped for. Those nice corner sinks you see in the pictures were ordered from plumbingsupply.com, and I have no problems giving them a plug here. I have ordered a lot of stuff from them in the course of our remodel and have nothing but great things to say about their service as well as their prices. Overall, as a project goes I would give this one a difficulty factor of about 6 out of 10. Not overwhelming, but not for an amateur either. It took a wide array of skills to pull off - Framing, Plumbing, Electrical, Tilework, and Finish Carpentry...not to mention the architectural design, project planning and the demolition...both concrete and interior walls. The results look awesome, it is functional, and best of all, it meets the regulatory compliance we were lacking in the original bathroom. Enjoy the photos.

Finishing the office bathroom

2007-05-11T11:54:00.000-07:00

So after a marathon weekend roughing in the new bathroom in our office, we spent Tuesday and Wednesday evening putting the finishing touches on the new space. We installed the toilet which is always fun, the sinks, wall sconces, and all of the various bathroom accouterments. Ahhhhhh...there's nothing quite like a brand new bathroom. I guess I'll be christening the throne soon enough. Enjoy the photos.

Rough In of the New Office Bathroom

2007-05-08T07:31:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, in true marathon style, we gutted and roughed in the new bathroom. When I say gutted, I mean we stripped the space down to the framing, relocated wiring, framed in a new ADA approved door, rerouted the plumbing, relocated the waste pipe (which involved busting up the slab), and drywalling the room. Quite a feat for a do-it-yourself job...mostly. I subbed out the drywall, because a mans got to know his limitations. My drywall always ends up looking amatuer. We use Martin and Sons for the drywall, they did the work a few months ago when we had the sagging drop ceiling replaced. They do an excellent job, and don't complain too bad about our not so perfect prep work. I will use them for every drywall job I do in the future and would recommend them if you're in need of drywall contractors. No job is too small, as you can see from these pictures. They completed this in a little less than four hours, and came back the following day to re-skim and sand. I defy you to find an imperfection. They make my crumby framing look great. The room wasn't square, off by about an inch in either direction. Not visible to the naked eye, but you cant rely on a t-square to score the sheetrock when the framing isn't perfect. Take a look at the first installment of pictures. I'll post the completed finish work separately later in the week.

On Simplifying Life

2007-05-04T07:07:00.000-07:00

I’m in a miserable rut. I work constantly, and there is never enough time in the day to do what needs to be done. I'm having a terrible time getting motivated to do anything, and living in our house in the condition it's in is difficult to say the least. I haven't been able to enjoy myself in a long time. Even if I take a weekend off for some downtime, I end up doing nothing and feeling guilty for it. I keep telling myself that if we can just get through this office overhaul, I'll relax some, maybe go to the beach. We bought a family pack of splash passes this year even though I’d wager we won’t use them once. We find it difficult to grocery shop much less cook, or do laundry for that matter. We eat out often enough that even the fare from our finest local establishments is uninspiring. We irresponsibly have pets that we don't have time to care for. Not being able to see light at the end of the tunnel is weighing heavily on me. Setting priorities has become increasingly more difficult, and getting out of bed in the mornings is a challenge in itself. I filter through mountains of unkempt clothing every morning trying to find something suitable to wear to work, and it never seems to get any easier. I'm throwing down the gauntlet and making a conscious decision to simplify my life, to take time for myself and my children. Experts agree that simplifying ones life is the easiest way to become more productive. It's often suggested that we cut out activities that aren't consistent with our core values. I know I need to stop spending time to save money. Instead, I should be spending money to save time. I shouldn't spend an entire weekend putting up drywall when I can have a crew do it in six hours for less than 400 dollars. It's not worth my time. I've also decided that I'll plan for a weekend that doesn't involve work, to spend more time with my family and with folks that make some kind of positive contribution to my life. I'm going to stop spending time with people who drain what little energy I have left. If you're a needy friend or relative, sorry...I'll catch up with you later. I'm not going to focus any of my time on things I can't control. I'm not going to worry about what our contemptible competitors are up to. I'm not going to check my stock portfolio every day anymore. I'm going to cut back on the extra curricular activities my over-stimulated kids are involved with. If they need a day planner when their ten, their too damn busy. I'm going to take time for a glass of wine and an evening walk. Maybe I'll go fishing. Anybody know of a good home for a two year old border collie?

Operation Ultrasound

2007-04-29T07:23:00.000-07:00

Holly and I watched a moving piece on public television a few weeks ago that documented the lives of military families. The program examined how these families cope with the stress of separation and the ubiquitous fear of the unknown. It left us feeling indebted and obligated to the people who risk their lives to preserve an esoteric right for the rest of us to live ours the way we choose. We wanted to give something back, and as valuable as a care pack full of chocolate is in Kabul, we wanted to offer something that could genuinely help some of these young families to stay connected. Starting May 1st we are launching "Operation Ultrasound", a FREE service to pregnant wives of deployed US servicemen. Participants will get a CD with a digital image file of their baby that they can email to their husband oversees. Recent studies have shown that the bonding experience provided by a 3D ultrasound can help mothers improve their diets and exercise more frequently, but for military fathers, the chance to actually see the baby and create a pre-birth bond is instrumental in drawing the whole family closer together, and it can provide an important bridge connecting dad back home. Holly figured she would do something she knows, and she knows ultrasound. If you guy's know of a local military family that could use this service, feel free to pass them our way. You can see the official press release here, and there is more information about it on our website. Help us get the word out, we tentatively set this to run through June, but if the response is there and it's not overwhelming for us, we're open to extending it as long as we need to.

Staging the New Bathroom

2007-04-26T11:33:00.000-07:00

My to do list continues to grow at an alarming pace. I worry that I may never be able to complete all of the remodeling jobs that have made it onto the short list. I began to prioritize them last week and it has become overwhelming to say the least. What ends up happening is that I have to place business related projects on the top of the list, but in an inevitable catch-22, we can't shut down operations long enough to complete them. One of the projects on the top of the list is the lab bathroom. It must be remodeled for handicap accessibility. This is a total overhaul that includes busting up concrete to relocate waste pipes. This isn't an overnighter. I have decided that the easiest way to handle such a project is to plan it to the letter, pre-purchase all of the required material, and stage-assemble everything for fit in a mocked up work area prior to removing a single nail in the existing bathroom. I have learned from experience that what drags a project into do-it-yourself purgatory is being unprepared for the unexpected. Having to run back and forth to the hardware store for the correct plumbing fitting two or three times adds hours to the effort. Staging can eliminate a great deal of this. When I built our kitchen island, I staged it in the living room; placing painters tape on the floor to locate walls and pipes. When I moved the finished product into the new space, it was completed inside of an hour. All I had to do was tack down the shoe molding. I plan to take the same approach with the lab bathroom. As such, I have staged everything in the living room again. I have ordered everything except for the doors, which I manged to find at Maner supply on Cross County Road. I needed ADA compliant solid core prehung doors, not cheap...and not light either. They have metal frames and weigh at least a hundred pounds. I'm picking them up this afternoon. Staging has already paid off, I found that my kids had left the lid off of the plumbers putty, allowing it to harden. If I had been in the middle of the remodel, I would have had to stop to make a trip to the store. The diagram to the left shows the new layout.

I aint afraid of no monsters

2007-04-24T10:43:00.000-07:00

glumbert.com - 3-year-old trash-talks monsters

Ignorance is bliss

2007-04-23T09:58:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while those uncertain actions we take on a hunch are validated by a successful outcome. As small business owners, my wife and I make a lot of decisions from the gut. You have to. Market analysis is about 95% common sense and about 5% hunch. Several years ago when my wife started her elective ultrasound center, we did a full scale market analysis. We researched the total available market utilizing US Census data for our regional population and combined it with data pulled from South Carolina's Department of Health and Environmental Control on birth rates in our area. We divided the total available market into income level categories and analyzed the resulting cross sections. Through statistical inference we were able to quantify our projected target market. The numbers didn't lie. We knew going in that we would have to reach an abnormally high percentage of the target market in order to generate enough cash flow to remain solvent, but since there was no competition in the area, we decided to go ahead and take a leap of faith. Months into the ordeal and very near throwing in the proverbial towel, we realized that Dionysus had slain Apollo and the ensuing exuberance outweighed the rational. We ended up making significant changes to our business model out of necessity, but we emerged stronger and wiser in the end. We still offer elective 3D ultrasound, after all, being able to offer this incredible experience to women in the Lowcountry was the impetus for the business in the first place, and that hasn't changed. We spent a tremendous amount of time and energy to convert from an elective, self pay approach to a physician ordered reimbursable approach. It has already proven to be the best decision we have made to date. Last week while I was doing some research on the Internet I noticed that the owner of a well established elective 3D ultrasound center in the midlands had placed her business on the market for sale, effectively validating our hunch that an abnormally high percentage of the market is required to support these endeavors. I won't claim to know the underling reasons behind that sale, but based on her publicly disclosed financials, I'd say it was because it barely pays the rent. Been there done that. Like I said, market analysis isn't rocket science, it's common sense. Unlike other service oriented businesses, the market for elective ultrasound is finite, meaning, you can't manufacture clients --without an army of irresponsible gigolos. To be in the market for a novel 3D ultrasound, you have to be a female, be between eighteen and twenty-six weeks pregnant, and have at least some degree of disposable income. If that's not a finite market I don't know what is. A few months ago while our business was already undergoing its transformation, we received a phone call from a potential competitor who stated that they intended to open an elective 3D ultrasound center in our market. To be fair, they were returning a anonymous call we had placed to inquire about their pricing structure and service offerings. They just wanted us to know that they thought there was enough business out there for everyone, and wanted us to think of them as a partner as opposed to a competitor. Holly and I both got a good chuckle out of that...but under the circumstances, perhaps a belly laugh would have been more appropriate.

Latest from Hollyweird

2007-04-20T05:37:00.000-07:00

Apparently yet another 'celebrity' has proven without a shadow of doubt that the land of glam is truly out of touch with reality. Listen to Alec Baldwin's absolutely disturbing rant left on his eleven year old daughter's voice mail. I think they will be postponing that family vacation to the Neverland ranch this year. Unbelievable. I never liked the Baldwins anyway, now I have a legitimate reason to despise at least one of them.

Late Freeze Spoils SC Peach Crop

2007-04-12T08:01:00.000-07:00

The unexpected Easter freeze seems to have devastated the palmetto states peach crop, a reported 35 million dollar annual production and the second largest peach crop in the nation. California is the first. I feel for the upstate farmers. An April freeze attacks bud growth, usually spelling disaster for their fruit. I live a block away from the farmers market in Summerville, and I frequent the market every Saturday morning with my kids. The opening of the market in April marks the perennial start of the growing season, and its close in October wraps up the local harvest with the traditional bounty of fall; squash, pumpkins, and corn. In the summer though, fresh Carolina peaches are always a favorite with my family. I'm convinced that my youngest can devour half her body weight in peaches. I may have to boycott those California Peaches this year, they're just not the same as stone fruit from the upstate. Although they vary from growing season to growing season, I find the western varieties not so appealing in the taste department, arguably the most important characteristic for fruit of any kind if you ask me. The California ones are clearly beautiful specimens to behold, but I'll take a dent or two for a Carolina peach bursting with flavor and aroma any day. Fruit is not unlike honey in that it takes on a subtle flavor distinction from its indigenous surroundings, and because this is obviously Gods country, our crops taste, well...divine. I can only pray that our berries held out, what kind of summer would it be without fresh local berries?

Moving up, Moving out

2007-04-09T11:35:00.001-07:00

I realize that this blog was originally conceived to chronicle the restoration of a charming downtown Summerville cottage, but restoring a 100+ year old home is only one of my many duties. I have a large hat collection. Monday to Friday I wear a business systems analyst fedora for a defense contractor supporting the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center over on the old Naval Weapons Station. In the evenings I don the IT guy derby for my wife’s diagnostic imaging center. I keep the VPN firewall up and running and make sure that the radiology and DICOM files are being processed and archived as planned. Maintaining the PACS system should be a full time job, but I squeeze it into a few hours in the evenings. On weekends and most holidays, I put the hardhat on and work on the house.

As I described in a previous post, we purchased the property primarily as a mixed use residential-professional office arrangement. We intended to convert a large detached two car garage into a home base for our mobile diagnostic ultrasound service, and that is precisely what we did. I completely renovated that outbuilding, wired it, installed a bathroom, installed central heat and air, and built out the area as office space, but as our business grew, we grew out of the building and ended up moving our offices into our residence and redesigning the converted garage to function as an outpatient exam room for vascular and prenatal ultrasound.

The CMS (Medicare) test deposit was entered into our bank account on Thursday, so it would appear that our enrollment package is nearly complete. We will be able to accept insurance any day now. Our promotional material has arrived and we will begin a comprehensive marketing campaign within the next two weeks. What that means is that our business is growing. We will soon need even more space. After many hours of contentious deliberation, Holly and I decided that we would inevitably have to convert the entire residence into an outpatient imaging center. With some work, the building would make an ideal medical practice. After all, a local attorney operated out of the space for many years. So, essentially the front two bedrooms will be converted into exam rooms, and the parlor will be converted into a waiting room. The living room will house a horseshoe administrative area, and the back bedroom will be an executive office. The kitchen, of course will become the employee break room. The converted office outside will become a vascular lab.

In order to make this space work as a state of the art imaging center, we have to take on several large projects including building a wheelchair ramp off of the front porch. We also have to remove the gorgeous claw foot tubs and replace them with urinals and ADA compliant fixtures. We have to build the horseshoe administrative area, run the appropriate communication lines, and put sinks in all of the exam room spaces. Most of the doors will have to be widened and replaced with industrial solid core flush units. We would have to replace all of the carpeting, and install vinyl composite tile in the exam rooms. We also would need to replace the windows and cover them with attractive Bermuda shutters on the exterior to limit the sunlight infiltration and create the appropriate ultrasound conditions. Of course, I will probably hire a general contractor to tackle these projects. All in all, the layout couldn't be better, and the great part is that in the end we can deed the property over to the LLC and instantly increase the asset side of the balance sheet.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed that our facility was chastised as “make-shift” on another merchant’s blog. I don’t know what this persons motivation was or even if they have ever been inside our facility. I doubt that they know the reasons behind our conscious and socially responsible decision to utilize a mixed use zone. I doubt that they know that most of the homes on our street, with the exception of one, are currently in use as professional offices. In fact, I doubt that this person knows much of anything. I have lived in Summerville my entire life with the exception of a few years while I was away in college. I was born in the old hospital, now the county services building off of Main Street. When I was in high school the US Census count said there were less than six thousand residence in Summerville. There are nearly fifty thousand now, with over half of them arriving in the last decade alone. With all these new residents comes new services, new shopping centers, and new strip malls. If there is one thing I despise more than anything else, It's seeing new strip malls detracting from our truly remarkable landscape. Don’t get me wrong, as a small business owner; I’m clearly not against growth. I just think it’s a shame to build new strip malls when so many existing ones are so anemically vacant.

In order to maintain the integrity of the town center, people need to live where they work. Otherwise you don’t have heterogeneous sustainable growth, you have sprawl. No one wants sprawl. Anyway, a note to the uninformed: Our decision to live and work from our home was not based on financial reasons, or any other reason that you might dream up for that matter, rather it was based on a humble attempt to revitalize a part of our beloved community; a community that is being threatened by the very irresponsible development you operate your own business from. Get a life. Get informed before you feel the need to comment on something you obviously know nothing about.

Thoughts on Ultrasound

2007-04-06T12:04:00.000-07:00

With South Carolinas' proposed ultrasound bill making headlines nationally, I thought I’d chime in on the business of ultrasounds in general...while the subject was still at arms reach. I feel uniquely qualified to comment on ultrasound since my better half operates an independent diagnostic testing facility, or IDTF, specializing specifically in the modality. Her facility offers both full diagnostics as well as 3D/4D limited diagnostic/elective ultrasounds.

Elective keepsake ultrasound facilities started appearing around the country in the late 1990’s, when ultrasound technology made the leap from grainy single-slice two dimensional renderings to volumetric three dimensional images that generated incredibly life-like images of babies in utero. We’ve all seen the commercials. These keepsake ultrasound places use the new 3D and 4D technology to provide expecting parents an exciting preview of their baby with detailed graphic image quality and motion.

My wife is an ARDMS registered sonographer and registered vascular technologist(RVT). She chaired the Diagnostic Medical Sonography program at our local community college, first as its clinical coordinator and then as the Program Director. She started the 3D-4D elective center three years ago. I wont hesitate to say that perhaps we viewed the world with rose colored glasses back then. The endeavor nearly broke us. The whole starting a business thing was exhaustingly hard work, and needless to say, although it has been what one would consider successful, it did not go as well as we had imagined it would in the sense that it failed to produce that elusive sense of fulfillment often associated with an entrepreneurial spirit. If you're a professional in the medical community in the Holy City you know that the community itself is holier than thou...both tight-knit and conservative by nature. So, for every minute of positive publicity she managed to generate, it was equally matched with two minutes of the negative variety. She only saw a handful of clients her first month despite aggressive advertising and a costly professional marketing campaign. She had essentially been black-listed by the establishment.

She started this business out of sheer passion and a love for the profession, and by stripping away the bureaucracy that has become ubiquitous in our health care delivery system, she could allow women access to the latest applications and technology while still maintaining a small, patient-focused atmosphere. After all, these services wouldn’t be available if there wasn’t a demand for them, and 3D ultrasound is truly a patient driven service. 2D ultrasound on the other hand, when operated by qualified sonographers is quite sufficient for obtaining clinical indications. Interestingly enough, very few CPT codes exist for 3D procedures, which means that reimbursements are the same for 2D as they are for its more desirable 3D cousin (desirable from the parent’s perspective that is).

So, for the short term at least, these entertainment businesses will thrive, and as well they should…because there is a demand, right? Not so fast. After three agonizing years in the elective ultrasound business, all the while kicking and scratching to preserve what was left of her professional image while fighting for every client, the handwriting was quietly etched on the wall. It is only a matter of time before the elective ultrasound industry is regulated completely out of business, but before that is allowed to happen, technology will catch up with it and drive the final nails into its coffin. I used this analogy with my son: "Why would you pre-order an x-box for $600 when you have a perfectly good play-station? You don't need the x-box, you simply want the x-box...and if you're patient, you can buy it next year for $350." The same holds true for these new ultrasound machines. Right now, Doctors don't need them, but as the technology advances, the new machines will become more affordable and rapidly replace the older units currently found in every OB-GYN office, thereby eliminating the demand for boutique ultrasounds altogether. In fact, there is convincing evidence that this trend has already began to manifest itself in the Lowcountry, and if you need further proof that self-refer is a tough row to hoe, take a look at what happened to Prevecare east of the Cooper a few years back.
My wife’s own company just purchased a brand new 3D ultrasound machine that is more portable, more powerful, and cost about half of what her first unit did…Now don’t get me wrong, it was still outrageously expensive, but my point is that they are now well within the reach of most private practices. Seeing that the handwriting was indeed on the proverbial wall, she felt it was time to start transitioning out of the elective ultrasound business and into the mainstream medical market. We needed to enroll in Medicare as a certified provider, begin accepting insurance, hire a physician, and contract with a radiology service to interpret the studies. She’ll still provide 3D ultrasound, it just means that we’ll be marketing to the doctors for referrals as opposed to marketing to the general public, but it also means an ADA approved facility, wider doors, wheelchair accessible ramps; grab rails, sinks in every exam room, the whole nine yards. More overhead? Absolutely. More regulatory oversight? Absolutely. Brighter future? Undoubtedly. One thing we will miss though is the 100% reimbursement we enjoy with the self refer work…a traditional provider only collects on about sixty percent of what is billed. Now I understand why they bitch so much.

So for all the moms-to-be out there seeking those keepsake ultrasounds...Do it the right way. Do it the safe way. Let your doctor know you want to have your diagnostic exam performed in a relaxing, patient focused environment, where the 3D pictures are complementary. He'll get a full report from our board certified in-state radiologist, we'll bill your insurance, and you can invite your family to share the experience. You'll leave with reassurance instead of a kitchen magnet and a false sense of security. We’ll keep you posted on the transformation.

Happy as Clams

2007-03-30T19:15:00.000-07:00

When I was a younger man, maybe twenty-one or so, I was working a manufacturing job at a local plant. I had spent a couple of years in college, but had failed to realize that majoring in art history didn’t typically open that job door in the Deep South. Fortunately, my best friend’s mother ran one of those temporary labor joints. They had a big van and would drive around town picking up day labor bound for a variety of odd jobs, usually loading shipping containers out at the docks or sorting tomatoes at the packing sheds on Johns Island, either way, the work was usually hard and the pay was usually lame. Because of our inside connection, it was Randy and I who landed the good jobs…or the best of the crap, depending on how you looked at it. Occasionally the jobs even had a benefits package of sorts; after all, there was that one stint with the refrigeration company where we got to service AC units in the girls dormitory at the College of Charleston.

On this particular assignment though, I was tasked with steam cleaning big diesel engines that had been shipped back in to the plant due to various warranty claims. They were from dozers, log skidders, and farm equipment of all kinds, but they always came covered with mud and grease, sometimes so thick that it was hard to tell they were engines at all. We had to clean them before the quality technicians could evaluate the claims, although many times it was quite obvious judging from those gaping holes in the core, that often the engines in question had run shy of oil and thrown a rod or two as a result. They came shipped in heavy gauge wire baskets and a forklift would drop them off every hour on the hour, lining them up for cleaning truckloads at a time; all day long. We wore rubber boots, rubber aprons, and a combination ear muff face shield thingy. Needless to say, I hated the job.

The incessant dampness had eroded away the tips of my fingers, or maybe it was the caustic solution they used to break up the grease. Either way, a couple of weeks into the work I got a liberating phone call from Randy’s mom paroling me from any further Chinese water torture. It seems that one of the larger and more sophisticated manufacturing plants in the area had several openings, and lucky for us, it was their policy to always hire temporary labor first, apparently so they could kick the tires before committing to permanent employment. The pay was much better and the benefits package consisted of much more than any sorority ogling opportunity. I would have to keep my nose clean for a few months, pass a drug screening, and of course…take a physical.

Ok, so here’s the point where you say “he thought he slipped that pass a drug screen thing on by us”. No… wrong. Guess again. It was the take a physical thing that sank me. You see, I had, and still have to some degree, a debilitating fear of needles. If this physical meant that I would have to give a blood sample, then I would surely die from inhaling industrial strength easy-off and over hydration. I didn’t apply for the job.

Now, seeing as we lived in a small town it didn’t take long for Randy’s mom to call my mother, who in turn called my dad, who practically dragged me to that office to turn in my application. I think my dad really wanted me out of the house more than he wanted me having that job. I often look back to find discomfort in the fact that my folks prodded me more to apply for that factory job than they did for me to stay in college.

Weeks went by without a word and I had completely forgotten about the job when I got a postcard in the mail informing me that I and nineteen others had been selected for employment. Randy was not one of them. To this day I’m not sure why I was selected and he wasn’t. Although he said it didn’t change anything, I could tell that he resented me for it and things were never the same between us afterwards. After a series of interviews I was told that I would start on second shift in three weeks, providing the drug test and physical came back in order.

The drug screening and physical actually took place in the same office, an industrial medicine facility that seemed to specialized in denying carpel tunnel claims, spine pain, and neck injuries of any kind presented to them by employees of the plant. These guys were hired guns, not your typical compassionate medical staff. Since I was still gainfully employed steam cleaning engines, I couldn’t take time off to go take a physical, mostly because I didn’t want to take time off to go take a physical, so I scheduled it during my lunch break. Although I only got a half hour for lunch, I was able to finagle an hour out of my foreman in order to “go to the DMV”.

I had worked myself into a knot of anxiety by noon. I had reasoned that since I had to give a urine sample, I should hold what little I had so I wouldn’t have to go through the water drinking ritual once I got to the doctors office, and since it was scheduled during my lunch break, I didn’t get to eat. On the way over I realized that I really, really had to pee. By the time I arrived I was floating, I had to go so bad that it literally hurt. Of course, the office was packed. I went straight to the sliding window at the front counter and explained my situation. I told the receptionist that I was there for an employment physical and drug screening, and that I really had to use the restroom and that if she would be so kind as to provide me with the little container I could go ahead and provide my sample.

If you can imagine what a bank teller looks like when someone slips her a note that reads “Stay Calm, Your Being Robbed”, that precisely describes the expression on the receptionist's face. Apparently some people, guilty people seeking employment that is; try to fool the drug screens in any number of unscrupulous ways. They must have had one of those hidden panic buttons like a teller too because the entire lot of ladies behind the counter sprung into action like defacto DEA agents. I was told that I would have to wait my turn. I was escorted to a seat and handed a clipboard. Every eye in the room was on me and I still had to pee like a race horse.

I waited a painful fifteen minutes, defiant at this point; I agonizingly awaited my name to be called, when alas! Glory be to God, the door open and St Peter called me back. The nurse was nice. She was tall, dark haired, and wore cute designer glasses. I immediately explained my circumstance once again, but it had appeared that the Nazis at the front counter had gotten to her as well. She said, “Just hop up here on the scale and let me get your height and weight and we’ll get right to that sample in just a minute”. I swear, I was nauseated from near bladder eruption and low blood sugar from skipping lunch, but I had come too far to turn back now. I had to stick it out. After she had my proportions recorded, I eagerly asked for my sample cup yet again. “We’re just going to draw a little blood then we’ll be all done and you can go give your sample”. Fine. Did I mention I had a needle phobia?

Ok, so at this point I could care less if they amputated my arm, just get it over with so I can pee dangit! I felt a pinch and a sharp prick. She filled a nice vial and said “Ok, All done”. She handed me my sample cup and escorted me to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I was a little lighted headed, but that was the last thing on my mind. The bathroom was a single, meaning it was just the commode and a corner sink, so I locked the door behind me like any normal person would do and I frantically began unzipping my pants. I wasn’t even thinking about reserving some for the cup, I just wanted to relieve myself at that point. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. A warm sensation enveloped my entire body and I felt calm and peaceful. This obviously went on for some time because I think I dreamt about Josephs Technicolor coat in there. Apparently, the low blood sugar, in combination with the extreme anxiety and sudden blood loss, Oh yeah…and all that pee, caused me to pass out.

I could hear them out there beating on the door, but I couldn’t move. I was so warm and cozy down there on the floor of that bathroom. When they finally got that door open it was as if God himself had shined his flashlight on me. There I was in all of my glorious splendor…pants around my ankles and lying in what seemed to be gallons of my own urine, none of which made it into that sample cup. I had hit my head on the door so they wanted to keep me for observation, clearly out of fear of litigation.

I was certain that I had pissed away any chance of employment, but they hired me anyway. Sometimes I wish they hadn’t. Sometimes I wish I’d pissed before I left work. I took that job and spent ten unhappy years in that place. Nowadays, I get up several times a night to pee, and I’m happy as a clam.

16 grandchildren, 38 great-grandchildren, and 9 great-great-grandchildren

2007-03-27T07:38:00.000-07:00

My grandmother on my father’s side passed away last week. She had been ill for several months after suffering a nasty fall in her nursing home. My brother and I picked up our younger sister, and made our way to Louisville Kentucky to pay our last respects and be with our family. Our sister had driven from Atlanta to Greenville and we met her off 385 on our way up. It was an eleven-hour trip, and one that I made with some reluctance. I have to limit exposure to my sister and I thought that spending hours in a confined space with her would make me say or do something I would surely regret, but this trip was different. We laughed, told stories about our own road trips as kids, and enjoyed each other’s company amidst the incredible vistas of the Great Smokey Mountains. We indulged ourselves in barbeque at establishments that neither of our spouses would be caught dead in. We reconnected with cousins we had not seen in many years. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses and promised to keep in touch. For many years, way too many to count, I have avoided spending time with my family other than on the emblematic holidays, because as we all know, moderation is the key to enjoying any potentially dangerous cocktail. However, I had a profound revelation on this trip, on this sad and mournful journey I came to appreciate that the bonds of family are stronger than any petty vice, blood is indeed thicker than water, and in the absence of our kids and our significant others, we realized that we are who we are, and that it’s ok to be that way. My cousin Richard said it with the simplest eloquence; “Look around you guys, look at all these children. If it weren’t for Grandma, none of us would be here today” This man, this stranger, opened his home to us and welcomed us with open arms, because we share a common thread without which none of us would exist, because we’re family.

POE, ESTHER MAE RICE, 87, our beloved mother, passed away Thursday, March 22, 2007 at River View Village in Clarksville, IN. Formerly of Louisville, she retired from Kentucky Baptist Hospital as a nurse aid, was past president and a life member of VFW Auxiliary and Robert E. Newman Post. She was preceded in death by her husband, Hubert Edgar Poe. She is survived by two sons, Edgar Ray Poe and Charles Walter Poe; two daughters, Carol F. Egbert and Linda Sanders; 16 grandchildren; 38 great- grandchildren; and nine great-great- grandchildren. Graveside service will be held at 11 a.m. Monday, March 26, 2007 in the Evergreen Cemetery. Visitation is from 4-8 p.m. on Sunday at the Neurath and Underwood Funeral Home (between Clays and Shelby Sts.)

The Forboding Toga Party

2007-03-15T05:20:00.000-07:00

"The following story, too, is told by many. A certain seer warned Caesar to be on his guard against a great peril on the day of the month of March which the Romans call the Ides; and when the day had come and Caesar was on his way to the senate-house, he greeted the seer with a jest and said: "Well, the Ides of March are come," and the seer said to him softly: "Ay, they are come, but they are not gone." -- Plutarch

It seems that on this day in 44 BC, Julius Caesar's posse of homeys whacked him while he had his back turned. He was said to have been warned to "beware of the ides of March", or March 15th. Incidentally, the Latin term "Kalendrium" means "account book", and the shortened version "Kalend" (from which our term "calender" is derived), was used by the Romans to denote the first day of the Month... because just as it is a couple of thousand years later, that's when the bills are due. What? No grace period???

My new LCD completes the parlor

2007-03-12T11:39:00.000-07:00

I found my camera over the weekend so I decided it was about time to go ahead and upload the pictures from the front parlor project. This was a huge effort that started the day we purchased the house, but since I used this space as a workshop while I remodeled the kitchen, it doesn't count against me. My Father-in-Law (and my Father) were kind enough to help re-skim the plaster in both rooms. One room was most recently used as a dining room, but it was nowhere near the kitchen and had no overhead lighting. As a matter of fact, none of the ungrounded two wire outlets worked in the room, so I don't know how the previous owners even used the room. I installed the cape cod wainscoting, crown molding and baseboards. I rebuild the closet, rewired both rooms, and installed the ceiling fans. The finishing touch was the little 15'' LCD TV that I got as a sort of gift to myself. This was the first project I used my flexible drill bit on, and it worked like a charm, although I'll need a longer bit since the ceilings in the house are so tall. The pictures below show how I used the tool to create a tight installation of a LCD TV. Also shown are a few shots of the finished parlor. Cheers.

Killing two stones for one bird

2007-03-12T08:06:00.000-07:00

OK, well I did it. I had a vasectomy on Friday, and I'm back at work today with no real problems, hardly worthy of all the trumped up paranoia I placed on the ordeal. I will say that it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences, but it was remarkably uneventful, thanks to the skillful hands of my urologist. I am notoriously bad about misplaced and undue anxiety. As a matter of fact, I was so worked up about the procedure by Wednesday of last week that I had to call the Doctor and ask for something to ease me through. No problem said his staff. They called in a Valium derivative and told me to take it thirty minutes prior to the procedure. I took the day off to avoid all of the good natured ribbing from my male coworkers...aping the doctor making jokes about the size of my unit, as in; “Your balls may swell to the size of normal testicles, but I don’t think we can do anything for your penis”. I took the anti-anxiety medication like clockwork on the way over to the outpatient center. When we arrived I was greeted by a small inconspicuous whiteboard at the front desk that explained that the good doctor was running an hour and a half behind due to an emergency surgery. Icing the kicker no doubt. Not good. My wife tried to calm me down, and we headed over to The Atlanta Bread Company for a sconce and a cup of coffee. At this point I was quite relaxed since daddy's little helper was kicking in nicely. Nothing outrageous, but it did take the edge off. About an hour into the newspaper we started to head back over to the Dr's office. Out of concern that the euphoria of the Valium might wear off leading to an uncontrollable panic attack during the procedure, I took a second one. Not the brightest move slick. I could have chewed my tongue off and not known it, but it made the process fairly benign, at least what I can remember of it. I slept until ten-thirty Saturday morning. Two days on the couch rotating bags of frozen peas and I'm back at work today, although a little slower and perhaps a bit more apprehensive about the proper approach angle when sitting. The patient informational brochure suggested that you "shave the upper scrotal area" I think I went a little overboard in that department and the resulting sandpaper effect is wreaking havoc down there. I still have a pronounced pain in my lower right abdomen, not unlike being on the receiving end of a spirited dixie-youth cup check. Guys, you know what I'm talking about. They say that its normal and should subside in a few days. All things considered, I'm just glad its over and I'm looking forward to getting back into the swing of things, unsheathed.

I lost my digital camera!!!

2007-03-07T12:35:00.000-08:00

OK, well I misplaced my digital camera. I've searched everywhere, but unfortunately it has not turned up. That means all of the before and after pictures I took on the parlor project are in limbo. I apologize to those of you following the restoration, I've not been very diligent in posting project progress, and the absence of my camera doesn't help matters any. I've been wanting to get a new camera anyway;-)

Oh, and I did get Holly's spring specials posted on the SWI site, so for all you expecting mothers out there, you can take advantage of these and save a few bucks on ultrasound services.

Mom coaches kids to act retarded...

2007-02-27T10:55:00.000-08:00

I ran across this earlier this morning....
Wait a minute now...I think I know this woman....
According to the Associated Press, Rosie Costello, 46, of Tacoma Washington, admitted in U.S. District Court that she collected more than $280,000 in benefits, mostly from Social Security. Apparently, the oldest son, now in his twenty's, was caught on court video surveillance successfully and rather articulately arguing his way out of a traffic ticket... and I have a hard enough time convincing people that my kids are actually normal.

Plans are made for changing

2007-02-12T11:14:00.000-08:00

Well, after making the plans to remodel the master bathroom as our next major project, we did what any self respecting do-it-yourselfer would do and changed them at the last minute. We are now remodeling the Jack and Jill bathroom linking our kids bedrooms. We made that decision primarily because I simply cannot live without a shower. If I cut the old fiberglass shower out of the master bathroom, I'll have to draw a bath before work every morning, hardly practicle. Since the Jack and Jill bath is not in terrible shape, adding a shower extension and ring to the clawfoot tub in that bathroom seemed like a more logical solution for creating a shower than the complete overhaul required in the master bathroom. I had replaced the water damage floor in the Jack and Jill bath over the summer. No problem right? I thought I would be in for a simple project, adding a shower extension tube to the fixture in the tub and installing a shower curtain ring. Nothing to it...Wrong. The project seems to have morphed into much more than I had originally conceived. We are now relocating the sink, completly re-tiling the entire bathroom, adding a linen closet, installing new fixtures (the old ones didn't match the new shower hardware) and installing recessed lighting. We went by Lowes and purchased the material for the project over the weekend. We went ahead and bought the floor tiles, grout, and thinset, but we didn't pick up the backerboard because we didn't have the van at that time, which is clearly indicative of an impulse buy, and one beyond my span of control. So, even though we didn't actually start the project, we have nearly all of the material required to do so piled up in the living room, which is a great motivator in and of itself. Take a look at this wonderful tile here...

Reclaiming Downtown

2007-02-07T05:24:00.000-08:00

When we purchased our home we were not exactly in the market for an older home, and certainly not the turn of the century relic we now own. What we were in the market for was a property we could run our small business from. This inevitably lead us to scouring over the many town centers around the lowcountry; places where residential and retail co-exist harmoniously. We were originally drawn to the old village in Mt Pleasant and placed a contract on a FSBO that had a large detached garage. The house was only one block off Coleman Blvd, a main thoroughfare with the potential for plenty of traffic. That deal fell through...thankfully. The real estate market in Mt Pleasant is insane, especially in the Old Village, and the price of our original find was staggering. After the sticker shock of the Old Village, we developed a keener sense of what we were looking for. This process involved months of research, and weekend after weekend of day trips followed by evenings full of researching potential properties that had made our short list. We knew that we needed something with good traffic that could serve the purpose as both a primary residence and a professional services office. Although we were searching in Mt Pleasant, West Ashley, and North Charleston, we ended up in my hometown of Summerville. We had our search area narrowed down to just a few blocks in the historic area of downtown because we felt it offered the most promise for finding a mixed use residence. After a month or so, the perfect house appeared on the market. We were aware of it immediately and had a contract on it within four hours of the initial listing. The former owner used the very large room over the detached garage as a dance studio. With the exception of the mirrored walls, we felt that the detached building would make a perfect home office for our mobile diagnostic imaging service. In fact, most of the older cottages on the east side of town had already been converted to businesses. Chiropractors, law offices, and accountants occupied most of the small cottages in town, so we felt that the property would be a natural fit. It isn't ironic that we found the perfect property in a historic district. Mixed used residential/commercial zones were common in 18th and 19th century townships for a variety of reasons. Although not initially aware that we were contributing to the economic revitalization of our downtown area, we quickly realized that the mixed-use property combines a unique quality of life with the convenience of working in a growing community. Our live-work arrangement provides ample office and business space with a cozy living space - all with the charm and attention to detail that are an integral part of Historic Summerville life. Mixed use zones are making a comeback. In 1991, downtown Summerville, like many small towns across the country, was facing hard times; 40% of the building were vacant. Lifelong residents Rick Sutton and Cada McCoy rolled up their sleeves and did something about it. They drew together several hundred people and spent a year meeting, talking, exploring, and researching. The result was the formation of D.R.E.A.M., the non-profit organization dedicated to the revitalization of the downtown area. Since 1992, D.R.E.A.M. has helped to bring focus and support to Summerville and its downtown.
Summerville D.R.E.A.M. is a member of Main Street SC an affiliate of the National Main Street Program of the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

2006 Cost vs Value Report Released

2007-02-01T16:54:00.000-08:00

The 2006 Cost vs. Value Report was issued this week. This years report takes a new look at the specifics for 25 typical remodel projects, the result of which is a handy matrix of cost-to-construct figures (which are inclusive of labor, material, sub trades, and gross profit) Many of which are not only higher than in previous years but also, according to Remodeling Magazine, are considerably more accurate. Estimates of resale value were also reportedly more accurate than ever before, thanks to a record 2,188 members of the National Association of Realtors that completed the magazines e-mail survey. So, any surprises? Not really. One thing I did find interesting was the stats for replacement windows. I knew replacing the inefficient windows in an older home would make the list as an investment that would be recouped not only in the percentage of value added to the home, but also in reduced energy consumption. What I didn't know was that according to the survey results, wooden replacement windows actually add more value than their vinyl cousins. Hmmm, interesting....very interesting indeed.

Planning for the Master Bath

2007-01-27T06:09:00.000-08:00

Well, I've put it off long enough. It's time to start the master bath. I have put this project on the back burner because we just finished a major kitchen over-haul, and I just couldn't bring myself to start another large scale project. The tub was refinished and has been sitting in our "sitting room" since before Christmas. We use it to store clean clothes. I have been doing some research and found a nice source for vintage plumbing components. I'm thinking if the budget will allow it, I'll get a free standing cast shower. I had considered building a steam shower, but at this point I just want to take the path of least resistance, and this really seems to suit the style I'm going for. I think we will stick with the oil rubbed bronze finish that we used in the kitchen. I'm also considering a 5" ebony maple engineered flooring product. It's easier to just start with a clean slate. The pine tongue-n-groove is nice, but there are a few walls that need to come down and the flooring that is installed now is not contiguous. I think we'll start methodically with the sawzall, remove the two interior walls that make up the closet, remove the baseboards and trim, and cut the old shower enclosure out. I need to plan it properly so that we have minimal shower downtime, since the other bathroom only has the clawfoot tub. I'll be sure to take a good series of before, during, and after photos.

Top Ten Do-it-yourself mistakes...

2007-01-25T09:31:00.000-08:00

As posted on MSN today, here is a list of the top ten errors do it yourself-ers make, and I've made just about every one of them. My personal favorite? Number two, Starting a job without the necessary tools and supplies. This is clearly one of the most time consuming mistakes that I have made. Unfortunately, I tend to make this one a lot. When we put the bathroom in our office, my father suggested that we shouldn't worry about busting up all of that concrete to install the waste line, but that we should build a throne for the throne instead. It's a six inch diameter waste line, which meant we would have had to build up the floor with 2x8's. We mocked it up and sat the toilet on it, but it just looked absurd. The Jolly Green Giant would have needed a step ladder to use it. The point? I spent a few hours actually considering that ridiculous alternative. The problem and original aversion to breaking up the concrete stemmed from the fact that we had indeed drilled a few holes in it, whacked it a few times with the mini sledge and cold chisel, and finally decided that we would sooner chisel out of Alcatraz than chisel out a home for my drain. I broke down and went to the local rental shop. I explained what I was trying to do, and for thirty dollars and a refundable $100 credit card deposit, I got a mini jack hammer/drill. It took all of thirty minutes to trench out a path in the concrete for the new drain with the correct tool. Thirty minutes. Thirty dollars. Tool rental works well because most homeowners will never need a fifty gallon concrete mixer more than once. So don't hesitate to rent those specialty items that may just save you some serious time and help you to complete the task sooner. If you're planning on fencing your back yard, rent the auger for your post holes. (21 post by hand = 1.5 days, 21 post with auger = 2 hours with beer breaks in between). This is what separates weekend warriors from the Pros.

No, Wait... This is my new favorite toy....

2007-01-24T10:57:00.000-08:00

I really have to get one of these...Its a usb pole dancer. The guy in the cube across from me has a usb foam missle launcher. It comes with software that allows the operator to rotate and aim the missle launcher in 360 degrees. Once on target, you can fire away. And they think blogging is a waste of company resources....

Go straight to the mammal...

2007-01-24T07:39:00.000-08:00

If you're anything like me, you HATE automated phone directories..."press one to piss off" A few months ago I purchased plane tickets online, but unfortunately had to call Delta when a problem arose with my flight. After fumbling around on Delta's stupid touch-tone customer service auto-pilot, I was finally put through to "hajji" who, incidentally, claimed his name was "Steve". I was frustrated and a just a little short with Steve. I asked for, as President Bush would say, a "merican". Reluctantly, and as if I had publicly flogged him, hajji connected me to my 'merican customer service representative in good ole Atlanta, GA, just as I requested. But now there's help....gethuman.com provides a list of touch-tone short cuts that get you straight through to the operator. No more telephone purgatory. When you need a problem-solving human on the other end of the phone, try these numbers and their short cuts. This is the best list I've seen for popular 800 numbers with real live humans at the other end, many of them 'mericans too. Even better are the voice mail short cuts for each number that take you to the warm brain on the other end the quickest. The list is searchable with cntrl-F, cheers!

My new favorite tool.

2007-01-23T07:46:00.000-08:00

Flexible Drill Bits

Flexible drill bits are made for drilling in the wall cavity and are a real lifesaver for remoldelers, and with good reason. Apparently, they're very popular with alarm installers too. For about fifty dollars you can save yourself a whole lot of time and hastle, and after all...isn't that what its all about? Over the weekend I was under the house trying to drill a hole up through the bottom sill of an interior wall to run a phone wire. Sure, I could have tacked it along the base board, but that's just, well...tacky. I cut holes in the drywall for the receptacle boxes. I use the blue plastic "old-work" boxes. I like these since you don't have to hit a stud to install them securely. If I had a flexible bit, I could have then inserted it into the cavity and using the accompanying in the wall guide tool, drilled a hole through the sill and into the crawlspace. Once in the crawl space, I could have attached my phone wire to the fish eye and pulled it back up effortlessly. Instead, I was relegated to the "tapping" technique, where I would crawl under the house and "tap" the sill with a screw driver and holler up to my wife..."Is that close?" Then cross my fingers and drill away. Then, worse still, I had to thread six or eight feet of cable up through the hole, return inside and fish it out with a coat hanger. Easier said than done. What should have been a twenty minute phone relocation took about two hours. I ordered the fish-bit the next day. Fifty dollars well spent if you ask me, I'm going to use it and my new recessed light hole saw this weekend. I'll update you on the time savings delta. It should easily be enough to pay for the tools on just one project.

The Galley Gallery

2007-01-22T15:01:00.000-08:00

The original galley kitchen in our cottage was less than spectacular. I don't know how it ever really functioned as a kitchen. It was dark and dank, and lacked an effective work triangle. When we set out to redesign the layout, we had no preconceptions of what we wanted...we only knew what we didn't like. We didn't like our kitchen. We also had no second thoughts about ripping out the old kitchen. There was nothing original there, in fact the current kitchen was added sometime in the 1980's. The original kitchen was in what is now our living room. We started by removing the old sink basin, which covered half of the window, something that just seemed very odd to me. I thought about re-doing the kitchen in that configuration, but nothing I put on paper seemed to work. We took the drastic step of simply measuring out the exterior walls and starting with a blank slate. That helped tremendously, since we were able to let our imagination have go at it. What we ended up with was a very functional kitchen that we enjoy every day. It just works very well. We relocated the laundry to the former kitchen area, and removed the existing laundry room to create the kitchen and eat in island. We built the entire space from scratch, well mostly. The kitchen cabinets were off-the shelf unfinished oak from Lowe's. We wanted the painted and distressed french country Kraft-Maid versions, but our budget just simply would not allow for the $16 thousand dollar investment. We experimented with a paint treatment and what we came up with was very convincing. They look amazing. With the embellishments and crown mouldings, they look remarkably similar to their $16 thousand dollar cousins, but with a $2000 dollar price tag.

Before...

and After...

I'll post the entire series of pictures from demolition to reconstruction. A quick note, the paint finish was a three step process. The cabinets were first slightly distressed. Then, a base coat layer of white primer was applied to seal the bare wood. In the next step, a confederate grey-blue color was applied. The finish coat was a french country butter cream color. After the units had fully dried we sanded the top coat down slightly in the areas where one might normally find extensive wear over time...around the pulls, the door edges, etc. To add to the aged appearance, the entire cabinet was wiped down with a colonial American stain, which enhances the sanded areas and distressed points, which in our case were generally "worm holes" that we added with a nail punch. The worm hole effect turned out very nicely once stained. The stain also added a very convincing glow, which is what drew us to the original Kraft-Maids. After a week or so dry time, two coats of clear satin acrylic finished off the doors and facing. We took a smaller door to Lowe's to compare it to the more expensive variety...The verdict? Side by side comparison proved that the finish applied in a controlled environment was better, but not $14 thousand dollars better. Even the kitchen and bath associates were impressed with the level of detail we were able to achieve. Of all the projects to date, the kitchen was the most rewarding, and the one we're most proud of. Let the photos tell the story (I took some with my phone, so you'll have to excuse the poor quality)

Bell Capital Cup Memories

2007-01-18T11:27:00.000-08:00

Over the Christmas Holidays my sons youth hockey team competed in the worlds largest organized tournament in Ottawa Canada, rather successfully too. Out of a total of 510 teams from around the world, the boys finished in second place in the Pee-Wee Majors single A division. Not bad for a team from South Carolina aye? check it out here...

The King of Crown

2006-11-29T12:43:00.000-08:00

I Love the look of crown molding, but cutting the stuff takes some practice. The first time I tried, I asked a friend who was an experienced trim guy to give me the run down on how to install the elusive ceiling topper. He explained to me his coping technique, as in using a coping saw to back cut the profile. I never did get it. I eventually sat down with a protractor and two eight feet sections of crown, and I cut a multitude of different angle pairs until I went through all sixteen feet of trim. I finally figured it out. I then made myself an inside and outside saw guide to help me remember how to set the saw up, but I rarely need it any more. I should note
that although I have crowned my entire house, I still don't consider myself a solid trim guy. After all, there is a huge difference between paint and stain grade trim....and if a good trim guy can make bad carpenter took adequate, a good painter can make a bad trim guy look great. I'll post a drawing of my saw template, but perhaps a look at these techniques might be more beneficial...

Our tub is here!

2006-11-01T09:57:00.000-08:00

Back over a year ago I purchased this 1898 Ahrens and Ott cast iron tub from my brother, who had it in storage in his back yard. I paid four hundred dollars for it in fairly good condition. It sat in his shed until a few weeks ago, not because we're rude, but because the thing weighs a few hundred pounds (about 400+ lbs I think) and we just didn't have any way to move it. We called around to several different refinishing vendors when my wife found this local guy named Tony. He came by and gave us an estimate on reworking the tub. He showed us a photo album of his work, and seemed like a nice enough guy. He arranged to come by and pick up the tub. After he got a good look at it, he thought that he would have it done before Christmas. I was a bit apprehensive, but I really wanted to get it out of my brothers shed. My sister in law had made a comment about their kids' bikes rusting out in the rain. I can take a hint, and after all, the tub had clearly worn out its welcome in there shed and they may even have a valid claim to a few dollars in storage fees. Tony met us there a week later and the four of us lugged the beast into his pick up. A few weeks later we went by Tony's to see the results. Wow! The guy did a fantastic job, and I would recommend his work to anyone. I'll post his contact info just as soon as I can find his card...
A few interesting facts about the tub...
After we got the tub back from Tony, my brother dug up this information on it's manufacturer, which incidentally, was in Louisville KY, where my fathers side of the family are from... "The American Standard Company is the result of successive mergers by a number of companies. The oldest was Ahrens and Ott Mfg. Co of Louisville KY, which began producing cast-iron soil pipes in 1857. The Standard Mfg. Co of Allegheny, PA., founded in 1870, was originally a maker of enameled cast-iron stove ware, but was making bath fixtures by 1888. In 1887, a Standard employee named Edward L. Dawes left to start up his own company with William A. Myler called Dawes & Myler Mfg Co. in New Brighton PA. By 1893 Dawes & Myler were producing enameled cast-iron bathtubs exclusively. In 1899, Ahrens & Ott, Standard Mfg Co., and Dawes & Myler merged with six smaller companies to form the Standard Sanitary Mfg. Co which became a major producer of enameled cast-iron bathroom fixtures. China or ceramic fixtures were not a part of Standard's production until 1929 when the firm acquired the Thomas Maddock's Sons Mfg. Co. of Trenton NJ. That firm had it's origins in 1873 when a pottery painter from Staffordshire England named Thomas Maddock became a partner in a Trenton NJ pottery that was the first in America to produce heavy sanitary ware such as toilets, bathtubs and sink bowls. Also in 1929, the Standard Sanitary Mfg Co. formed a partnership with the American Radiator Co. of New York City under the name American Radiator and Standard Sanitary Corporation. Later, the name was shortened to American-Standard. Today, people will find old rolled rim bathtubs that are marked on the bottom with the name Standard Sanitary Mfg Co and A & O Works or D & M Works or SW. The SW stands for Standard Works (factory) and AO Works (Ahrens & Ott factory) and DM for Dawes & Myler factory. The different works or factories still carried their old names, and even produced their own catalogs, but all the fixtures were produced under the Standard Sanitary Mfg. Co label."

Kitchen Remodel, Phase II continued

2006-11-01T07:12:00.000-08:00

The remaining images show the whole space really start to come together. This was truly a culmination of a lot of planning and preparation. I had to relocate all of the plumbing fixtures and pipes to accommodate the new island. I also had to rewire in order to relocate the range. All of this was done well in advance, and since the back elevation of the house is on a foundation nearly four feet high, it was easy to work under the house, quite relaxing actually. It gets to be 100+ degrees with nearly 100% humidity in the coastal South Carolina summers, so working in the cool air under the house was a blessing in disguise.

Kitchen Remodel, Phase II

2006-10-31T06:41:00.000-08:00

In the next series of photos, you will get an idea of the extint of work that went into this space. In the first few pictures you can see that we had removed a wall where the previous laundry room was. We layed down a gorgeous Brazilian cherry floor and anchored the long and narrow room with a custom built island that I fabricated in our "work room" and assembled in the kitchen. We installed recessed lighting, a custom built-up crown detail, and a custom designed tile backsplash that incorporated the whole color scheme. You might find it interesting that where the old laundry room wet box once was is now a very unique pot filler, a rather ingenious re-use of resources we think. It's also very handy, but probably serves more as a conversation piece more than anything else, since these fixtures are rather rare in our area.

Click here to see more Phase II Photos

The new kitchen...Step by Step

2006-10-30T04:58:00.000-08:00

Click here to see the Phase II Photos

The House

2006-10-20T17:55:00.000-07:00

She's a gem, leaning 20 degrees to the east, but a gem never the less. A classic 1908 Carolina Cottage ~ 1800 square feet ~ Three bedrooms ~ Two full baths ~ a beautiful new galley kitchen, and a sturdy, impressive post & beam construction. It also came complete with an absolutely scary bug infestation, no, thankfully not termites....roaches. Millions of them. We treated it professionally several times, but there's just nothing like pulling down a twelve foot section of crown moulding and having it's long time tenants and years of their waste by product come down on top of you. Getting rid of the bugs was challenging enough, but that was just the beginning. What we would go through in the next year and a half was part of a life long dream, but one realized through back breaking labor and sacrifice beyond description. Drywall dust covered everything we owned, regardless of how many times we vacuumed.

The Family

2006-10-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

My wife and I have been married, uhhhh....a long time. We use hurricane Hugo in 1989 as our reference point. We were married at the historic Middleton gardens in 1991, two years after the devastating storm, on it's anniversary no less (Sept 21). We have two wonderful children, a border collie and two cats.

A sense of place

2006-10-12T13:17:00.000-07:00

I think that it must be the tide, or maybe it’s that same joy of regularity routinely experienced by those blue haired condo queens on their latest multigrain high fiber diet. Unable to afford a beach house of my own, we spend a couple of weeks each year in a rental on Edisto Beach in coastal South Carolina. Right now, just as I’m writing this, my wife and children are playing bingo at the Edisto Island Lions club. Tidal in its own regularity, the Lion’s Club bingo night occurs every Wednesday and Friday evening during the summers. Catering to the vacationing lawyers, the Lions club bingo night checks in as pure wholesome family fun.

Perhaps it’s all the healthy competition that drives the island inhabitant’s ever increasing collection of Edisto essentials. A stint on Edisto is merely camping without them. First on that list, as my son would describe it, is a “Pimp Golf Cart”, now these are no ordinary golf carts…they are often complete with chrome wheels and are painted in the colors of the owners’ collegiate alumni. A dozen or so bikes, a minimum of one jet-ski and about a fifteen foot center console to motor in from your thirty-six foot Sportfisher will nicely round out your Edisto war chest.

On Edisto, residents and guest alike want to think life moves at a slower pace. In fact, I think that it’s just that slower pace perception that draws people to this place. I’ve spent my summers on this island for the better part of twenty years. Tonight, as the burning embers of a charcoal grill are permeating the air and faint voices from the family in the beach house next door fill the voids between the cicadas and the ever present tide, a carload of teen’s miss-shift a convertible in front of my rental.

Now, I’m quite high on California Chardonnay, so the lanky southern drawl of “Yall aint going back yet are you?” is all I can manage to discern from the teens curious and awkwardly familiar conversation. Kids really, they couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old. Some might have been older, but not by much. Three young men and two girls piled themselves into a Mini-Cooper. Nothing good can come from a gaggle of well-off teens in daddy’s sports car, especially nothing that follows “Hey yall, watch this...”, but Junior finally found first and the whole lot of them hobbled off down Myrtle Street. The father in me worried somewhat, but that thought quickly faded as my wine glass emptied, and I did get a good chuckle at the sight of that little car bucking and jeering…like a schnauzer drags its ass to free the remnants of its most recent bowel movement.

I’m also rather guilty of perpetuating that slower paced perception by bringing my own family to Edisto for that very same well-intended-but-often-misguided sense of wholesome-ness, hoping that the density of wholesome would somehow displace the viscousness of dysfunction. But, alas I cannot run from my roots, and as a fitting and just reward for the years of aggravation I caused my own parents, the fruit of my loins did not fall far from their tree…my children are impatient, ungrateful, and have little or no regard for the personal property of others. I know this to be true because I have personally witnessed my son fill a solo cup with red kool-aid a full quarter-inch above the lip, retaining the fluid in the cup by sheer surface tension alone. Fearing that this defiance of physical law would inevitably lead to the destruction of a perfectly worn Berber remnant, I screamed at him to take that shit out back, which is where the ‘accident” eventually occurred, creating a rather realistic crime scene effect on the weathered wood deck. I know I should be glad that I don’t actually own the beach house, but I pick up a real estate magazine every visit anyway.

Truth be told, I'm no fan of white wine. I had stopped by the marina to have a few rum-n-cokes with the local crowd after dropping the family off at the Lions Club, but the line of tourist trying to get one of those sunset tables for dinner was gathering out the door onto the pier, so I meandered back to our rental by the surprisingly adequate light of the waning moon to make my own libation. I sat on the elevated porch and waved at the passer by’s. I listened to the mixed tape I had kept in my possession since high school. I switched to Scotch and water.

What is this wholesome-ness anyway? True, Edisto is no Myrtle Beach. There is no outlet mall, no fast food, and no waterslides or mini-golf. Matter of fact, there is only one grocery store on the entire island.You can count the restaurants on one hand, and there’s only one gas station unless you count the pump at the marina. But that’s not really why I come. I tell myself that that if I bring my kids to this place that they will leave with a rejuvenated and communal sense of family. I tell myself that family vacations don’t have to include theme parks and roller coasters. I tell myself that my over-stimulated Nintendo generation kids need to learn to appreciate the simpler things in life. But that’s not really why I come.

Our week’s itinerary included surf fishing off the Sound, paddling rented kayaks across Big Bay Creek to Otter Island, tidal pool exploring, crabbing, wave riding on the north end, a visit to the serpentarium for the afternoon gator feeding, a nature hike and visit to the interpretive center, a plethora of family style dinners on the picnic table out back, Bingo at the Lions club, and of course- consuming the intoxicating salt mash air while relaxing in a rocker on the front porch...and waving to all of those who have come to share the same experience.

I come for the passer by’s. I come for the sense of place.

Is honesty always the best policy?

2006-10-12T11:08:00.000-07:00

In the 1950's, Edward R Murrow, perhaps the nations most prolific journalist hosted a radio series called "This I Believe". The program essentially asked Americans to submit a three hundred word essay describing their core beliefs. National Public Radio has brought the program back and is soliciting essays. They invite you to contribute to the project by writing and submitting your own statement of personal belief. You can read some here http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4538138 You can read the essay I submitted below. Then submit your own ;-)

“Honesty is the best policy” sounds so ridiculously cliché. But then again, I have a preteen. Twelve years old to be exact. I’ve used that cliché more than once with my son. My heart bleeds for him as I helplessly watch him stumble his way through adolescence. Middle school has to be the most humiliating of all human experiences. As kids struggle to find there identity, many align themselves with those they believe they most closely relate to. This seemingly innate desire to ‘fit-in’ most often leads youth to assume the identity of the group that best fulfills that sense of belonging. When I was a kid it was primarily the “Jocks’, the “Nerds”, and the “Heads”; where the “Heads” where long-haired misfits with tell-tale Iron Maiden tee shirts, jean jackets and studded bracelets. I’m assuming “Head” was the short derivative of the ubiquitous term ”Pot Head”. Nowadays there seems to be an endless supply of niche market identity groups. You have your “Goths” and your “Gangstas”; You have the coffee house crowd that shall remain nameless, the ever-staple athletic bunch, those mop-headed soccer hooligans who mean well, and lets not forget those skate punks, after all skateboarding is not a crime I'm told. I tell my son that the people you associate with should never define who you are, even though I know that he probably won’t know who he really is for another ten years, seven if we’re lucky and tithe. I tell him that it’s so much easier just to be yourself, even though I know that he really doesn’t understand who he is quite yet. There's nothing groundbreaking here, just your classic identity crisis. Some kids get it worse than others, but they will all endure the hormone induced paranoia we call puberty. The truth is, who we are is a bouillabaisse of life experiences, beliefs, values, and lessons learned. So, in the awkward years between puberty and adulthood, what do I tell my son who struggles with his place in life? I tell him that honesty is the best policy. I tell him to be honest with himself, and everything else will fall into place. When I think back to my own middle school years, I remember actually trying to perfect a “walk”…more of a stride than a walk; it had a ridiculous gate and an off tempo toe drag. Why? God, why? I remember exactly when the proverbial light switch flipped on. My mother had taken me school shopping, that awful annual ritual that marked the end of summer and the beginning of the paralyzing anxiety that perennially accompaned the first week of school for me. I had boldly selected a poly-something, black double breasted (sleeveless no less) shirt and black parachute pants with silver piping. My mother in her infinite wisdom only replied “is there enough room in the waist?” I put that get-up on for my first day of school in the ninth grade. It was out-there, even by 1982 fuchia leg warmer standards. (--What were we thinking?--) As I stood in front of the mirror staring at myself in that Hans Solo costume, it clicked. I looked absurd. From that point forward, and with but very few exceptions, I have always been conscious of the fact that we are who we are; not who others would want us to be. So, no matter how badly you seek acceptance, always remember to leave enough room in the waist for yourself.

The Lure of The Mirror Shad

2006-10-11T12:23:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a very small town in the rural south…the DEEP rural south actually, an especially humid and mosquito laden region of coastal South Carolina known as the Lowcountry. Although it wasn’t exactly the small town from a Norman Rockwell painting, it did have the stereotypical dirt roads and country stores. It had its share of toothless characters and town loonies, as well as a few of its own home-grown blueblood aristocrats. Football was king and our preacher would often cut the Sunday sermons short if a big game was on TV. We had the Liberty five and dime, a Dairy Queen, and lots of old antebellum homes. The classic Lowcountry design had signature tall ceilings with fans to circulate the air and wide porches with their bead board ceilings painted haunt blue to keep the spirits away, a Caribbean tradition courtesy of the slave trade. They also had full length windows to create some relief from the sweltering summer heat, but the most significant feature of a Lowcountry home was its oversized closets, just right for hiding the skeletons of long held family secrets.

Now, don’t get me wrong...growing up in a small town does have its advantages. It’s a good thing when everyone knows your name or at least knows who you are. “Aren’t you so-and-so’s boy? Well tell ya Momma we said hello.” Now that I think on it, maybe it wasn’t always such a good thing… Thelma Limehouse would always threaten to call our folks if one of us didn’t own up to trampling her prized tomato plants or bending the livestock fence when we hopped it to play baseball in the cow pasture.

I seem to have a notorious sort of revisionist history when it comes to recalling my youth. What I mean is that I often sugar-coat my memories because I like to think that all of my experiences were wholesome and nostalgic, but in reality, although I have a great deal of fond memories I often find myself reflecting more on the many episodes of sheer dysfunction that pepper my mental landscape than on anything remotely fond. Maybe it’s the glass half empty side of me, I don’t really know.

I guess you could say that I can fondly recall splitting a grilled cheese sandwich with my mother at the drug store lunch counter when I was maybe five years old. Cubed green Jell-O® with a spiral cone of redi-whip just seemed so exotic. Then again, whenever I think of that drug store I think of the absolutely traumatic three weeks of schizophrenic paranoia I went through thinking I was going to hell for shoplifting a Rapala® deep-diving mirror shad fishing lure. I took it out of its clear plastic packaging and shoved it in the front pocket of my Toughskins. If you’ve never seen a Rapala® deep diving mirror shad, it has not two, but three sets of razor sharp treble hooks for that guaranteed sure-catch.

I didn’t really want to steal that mirror shad. My brother and Ronnie San Pedro put me up to it. Although my brother was only two years older, he had some kind of authoritative unilateral rule over all forms of neighborhood activity. Ronnie was the oldest son of a seven kid Puerto Rican family that lived in the trailer park at the end of our street. Speaking of closets, I think the oldest San Pedro girl, Missy, ended up coming out of one a few years ago. It didn’t surprise anyone though. She was always a tom-boy sort, and now that I think about it, she was never the last one standing when the captains picked teams.

No, I couldn’t tell you why I went along with that fishing lure caper. All I know is that my brother and Ronnie were nowhere to be found when I left the drugstore. I think I cried all the way home. I cut through Mrs. Elliott’s yard as I peddled my banana-seat schwinn along the kudzu and wisteria lined path on the shortcut behind the library. I don’t think I even noticed that the mirror shad had lived up to that guarantee and made its first catch, entangling its barbs into my pants pocket and upper thigh.

My mother had us in church every time the door opened; twice on Sunday, and every Wednesday night for prayer service. We memorized bible verses from the New Testament in Sunday school and went to vacation bible school for two weeks every summer. We sang in the youth choir and practiced on Tuesday nights. Needless to say, we had our fill of fundamentalism by the time we were twelve. The thought of stealing, I mean blatantly breaking one of the Ten Commandments while God watched and took notes no less, was one of the worst offenses a ten year old boy could commit, second only to taking the Lords name in vain, which incidentally, earned you a mouthful of Ivory liquid soap and an ass cuttin’…but stealing? Stealing would send you to Hell… a pit of death where pain and suffering emanated from a lake of fire. I didn’t want to go to Hell.

My Father had attached a lean-to structure on the side of the barn to keep our bikes out of the weather, although I think it was more about keeping us kids out of the barn. As I sat in that bike shed staring out into the yard the sky began to darken. It started to rain. A slow but determined shower pelted the sandy soil creating a steamy haze as it cooled the scorched summer earth. It was clearly a sign. God was angry. People in the Lowcountry are very superstitious, hence the blue porch ceilings to repel stray spirits, and I knew that the angry sky was directed at me. My mother used to say that rainbows where Gods apologies for the often violent acts of Mother Nature. To this day I’m perplexed by the duality of the Creator, divine benevolence with a mean streak. My mind swirled as I struggled to make sense of what was happening. My tribulations where compounded as I was forced to cut the mirror shad from the pocket of my jeans, spelling an almost certain whipping from my Mother. Although I was hooked firmly, I was lucky in that the jeans had spared my thigh from the sure-catch barb, which would have made self extraction even more painful.

If I had learned anything from ten years of Southern Baptist confinement, it was that if I were to have any chance of circumventing the ground opening beneath me in a demonic fury, I had to repent and repent fast. I had to ask God for forgiveness, but as if asking the all-mighty himself for forgiveness where not enough, Southern Baptist added a strange draconian twist. Not only must you repent your sins to the Lord God above, but one must also publicly confess his sins and ask forgiveness from those who have fell victim to his evil ways. As if getting out of the drug store with stolen property were not hard enough, now I had to get back in and return it.

I rummaged through my brothers well-stocked old-timer tackle box looking for a suitable replacement for the clear plastic box I left behind in the aisle where the baseball cards where. I thought it would be too difficult to try and retrieve the original. On the second fold out row there was a brand new creek chub still in its acrylic box. I removed it and put the mirror shad in its place. Oddly enough, it stopped raining. Steam rose from the ground and the heat distorted the horizon. God had granted a stay of execution.

For three agonizing weeks that mirror shad haunted me like a tell-tale heart. I kept it under my bed, except for a brief period when I moved it to the tree fort. As each day passed I grew more and more remorseful, yet I could not bring myself to get within fifty yards of the drug store. I prayed several times a day, many times on bended-knee, asking God to spare my life. Please don’t send me to Hell God, Please. Finally, out of fear and desperation, I returned the mirror shad to its rightful owner, albeit somewhat mangled and not in its original package, I returned it nevertheless. I put it back on the shelf, and nonchalantly purchased a pack of Topps baseball cards with the Bazooka Joe gum inside, three Now-N-Laters and a Charms Blow pop for good measure.

It was a solid year before I went back to the drug store. If my mother was going to the Pharmacy, I would wait in the car. A few years ago my brother and I where helping our aging Father tear down the old barn and bike shed over the Thanksgiving holiday. Thirty years later and it still wreaked of pee from using its back side as a urinal when we were kids. We were both disgustingly amused. As we pulled the weathered board and batten siding from its timber frame, we marveled at how much smaller the structure was than we had remembered. My brother kept the piece of siding from overtop the barn door where my father had affixed a lucky horseshoe. It was a crisp autumn morning as we pushed the last timbers into a remarkably compact pile of debris. As the noon day sun warmed the nape of my neck I suddenly realized that I had not fully repented for stealing that mirror shad. I seized the opportunity to preserve my hereafter and publicly announced to my father that I stolen a Rapala® deep diving mirror shad lure from Eckerd’s drug store in 1977, but that Chris and Ronnie San Pedro made me do it.
As my family and I drove home that afternoon, I stopped by the old drug store. I told my wife that there was something I had to do. I went into the store and approached the young lady at the register. I gave her three dollars and told her that I had stolen a mirror shad lure from the store when I was a kid and I wanted to do the right thing and pay them back. She stared at me with the annoyed innocence of a typical teen. I picked up a pack of baseball cards, three Now-And-Laters and a Charms Blow Pop for good measure, checked out and left the three dollars in the have-a-penny-leave-a-penny tray. About three months later the old drug store closed. It was replaced by one of those hideous dollar store chains. My Grandmother on my mom’s side used to say that God worked in mysterious ways. To this day I’m convinced that He kept that old store open until I had fully repented for yielding to the siren temptation of the mirror shad lure.

In the begining....

2006-09-24T14:46:00.000-07:00

This house, no offense intended to the previous owners, was in terrible shape. It was an absolute nightmare to say the least. It would prove to be an enormous challenge, but we're making signifigant progress. The following photos show the house in the purchased condition, but don't be fooled, the pictures don't do it the "injustice" it deserved

The Resoration

2006-09-22T12:05:00.000-07:00

Well, Its been one year. Actually, fourteen months. In November of 2005 we purchased a 100+ year old Carolina bungalow with the idea that we would relocate our offices to the adjacent detached garage which had a street presence on what was arguably commercial property. We planned to renovate the main dwelling as our primary residence. Ive since learned that there is a difference between the terms "renovation" and "restoration". Over the past year we have set out to not only to relocate our diagnostic imaging facility, http://www.swidiagnostics.com, but to bring the house back to it's original charm. This was never intended to be a restoration, and we were never really that anal about maintaining historical accuracy. Since the structure had a number of additions over the years, it's a little more difficult than one might think to maintain some sort of architectural integrity on a structure that doesn't fit into a category other than "carpenter Gothic" This blog is primarily dedicated to this overall pursuit, and it gives our family and friends (and all of the former owners) an opportunity to check in on the old bird and watch the transformation as we progress.