The following post is brought to you by Keola Simpson. Keola is an exceedingly gifted actor, writer, and (turns out) handyman. On Monday last, he (along with Tom Sawyer and Jesse Patch) made their way up to Ryder Farm. SPACE’s corncrib renovations have commenced and these gents were the first of SPACE’s strong volunteer force to “have at” the corncrib. It is SPACE’s plan to equip. the INCREDIBLE John Ryder (DREAM foreman) with two able volunteers each day of our latest restoration effort.
Stay tuned as we have only just begun…
I don’t do romance. I don’t feel bliss. I don’t crush.
Myself, Jesse Patch and Tom Sawyer make the hour (or so) long trip north of NYC, in a borrowed Mazda Protégé, loaded on caffeine ‘cause it’s earlier than early, anxious ‘cause we’re running late, and awkward ‘cause this borrowed car has no stereo.
With the pregnancy/ birth of SPACE on Ryder Farm now in the rear-view, and the responsibility of finally bringing the baby home ahead of us, construction (or restoration) of the grounds is underway. The three of us have been assigned to the Corn Crib, a charming 20’ x 24’ studio (in Craigslist terminology). Our task: rip out the original, plank flooring; replace it with a new insulated floor.
It should be noted that neither Jesse, Tom nor myself were blessed with a construction skill set. We’re… how do you say… gifted in other areas. But I know my way around a theatre scene shop. So does Jesse. And Tom brought his camera, so we’re qualified. Barely.
Demolition of the old floor is tipped for us by the farm’s keeper, John Ryder. He’s a crafty man. He’s also not blind because he sees the confusion in our eyes when we stare at the floor for minutes, unsure of how or where to begin. He could have left us there for hours and we’d still be staring. Instead, he whips out his skill saw and makes some preliminary cuts in the floor for us, exactly the size needed to fit wood into the furnace, exactly enough of a head start needed for us to move forward.
We quickly discover that there’s a certain amount of satisfaction that comes with breaking stuff. It makes the animal in you come out. It makes the man in you peak its head up and growl. It makes you want to pose for pictures for Tom’s camera that’s running a 6 hour time lapse of our work. And we do.
For those of you concerned, we took breaks. Breaks that include walking the 126 acres of flawless scenery. I saw for the first time the giant lake hidden behind the trees, past the stadium sized natural amphitheater, past the quiet pond with a row boat partially sunken in it, past the old barn that I want to live in. This is easily the best looking girl at the party. She’s charming, approachable, wears a delicious smile, thinks you’re funny, and dresses appropriately for the weather. She’s classy, but not too classy. She’s rugged, but not in a threatening way. In a single word she’s… girlfriendable.
Demolition eventually turns the corner and we finally lay down insulation. It’s messy. It’s rewarding. It’s warm. Seriously, some artist is going to sleep in this cabin and they are going to be warm. And they’re also going to be confused. Confused by the feelings they’re discovering over a place they hardly know; confused by the flood of ideas that come with being in a new romance; confused by the clarity of imagination that this girl– this SPACE delivers.
As the sun sets and we start our drive back to NYC we feel like new men. Hell, we feel like men. That’s achievement enough for us. But the boy in me has a crush. Big time.