Before you can remodel you have to undo. You have to tear out. That means going into a place that may look a bit tired and turning it into a war zone. It means taking a wrecking bar, hammer or sledgehammer to whatever has to come out. Yes, a power screwdriver will help, too. Usually what has to come out is stuff like cabinets, flooring, sheetrock and wall studs. But it extends to aging toilets, bathtubs and shower enclosures, not to mention wads of gritty pink Fiberglas insulation.
Basically, you attack whatever gets in your way.
Releasing the Inner Hulk
We don’t get a license to wantonly destroy stuff very often, so doing a tear-out provokes strange responses in people. It can release your inner Hulk.
Something like that happened when my wife brought three friends from Hill Country Bible Church into the Redman. Before they entered the mobile home, you could see a bathroom with an ostentatious garden bath (littered with mouse droppings), a kitchen with base and wall cabinets, and a bunch of other built-ins.
An hour or two of loud noises later, the place looked like a bomb had gone off.
They were all smiling as they left. No arteries were severed, but a lot of wood suffered.
It was a mess. The tear-out wasn’t nearly done and you could barely move through the wreckage.
Calling in the Dumpster Drop
That’s when I called in the dumpster from Rockin’R. It arrived late on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Lenny, a driver with 20 years of experience hauling big stuff, pulled an enormous truck into the property. The dumpster, built to hold 30 cubic yards of tear-out, junk and what have you, sat high on the truck bed.
I pointed to where I wanted the end of the dumpster to be. Lenny turned the truck around, backed up a bit, decided to adjust forward, and then slid the dumpster onto the ground like it was toothpaste.
A Sawzall from Santa
Restrained until now, Christmas morning brought my renewal. Santa had left a Sawzall under the tree. To be specific, it was an 18-volt, battery-powered RIDGID reciprocating saw. Nearby, Santa had left a battery and charger.
Can you spell Freddy Krueger? Can you say Leatherface? Can you scream, “Oh, no Mr. Bill”?
It’s hard to say exactly what happens to a writer when he stops hefting hyphens and picks up his very own Sawzall. But I went to work. Those pesky wall studs that were implacably attached to their header with diagonal screws and could hardly be budged with a sledgehammer?
Dexter would be jealous
Well, they paid the price: brutally sawn in half and wrenched out in pieces.
That Fiberglas shower enclosure, almost seamless and totally attached to the wall?
Yeah, it paid the price, too: dismembered in crude sections as curls of smoke swirled from the overheating blade.
Soon the only task left was to carry it all to the dumpster and sweep. The task clocked in at 14,000 steps — that day — even though the entry to the dumpster was only 30 feet from the door to the Redman.
You should know that I don’t normally use power tools. It was a simple decision: I’ve used them and decided to stop while I was ahead and had all 10 digits. For me, working with hand tools is dangerous enough.
A man has to know his limitations
Whatever the manic joy of a Sawzall, I learned long ago that some people are really good with tools. I’m not one of them. I got that lesson loud and clear more than 50 years ago when I watched a young plasterer and a hod carrier get more done in a day, better, than I had done in a week. I learned it again working with an older union carpenter who never made a mistake.
In fact, there are only two tools that I’m really good at.
One is a broom. I’ll go head-to-head with just about anyone for brooming, sweeping and cleaning up. It makes for a fast start the next day. It saves losses, avoids missteps, and reduces random punctures. It keeps the chaos of building stuff at bay.
But my favorite – even beloved – tool is small and fits in my pocket. It has no exchangeable blades, rechargeable batteries or safety switches.
It’s called a checkbook.
As tear-out ends and constructive skills are called for, I’ll be manning the checkbook and the broom.
Related columns:
Scott Burns, This Old Mobile Home: Raze or Save?, 1/12/2019 https://scottburns.com/this-old-mobile-home-raze-or-save/
Sources and References:
Freddie Krueger https://www.gamespot.com/gallery/freddy-krueger-is-back-heres-photos-of-robert-engl/2900-2307/
Leatherface: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099994/?ref_=tt_rec_tti
Oh no, Mr. Bill: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRJE2n3qjrY
This information is distributed for education purposes, and it is not to be construed as an offer, solicitation, recommendation, or endorsement of any particular security, product, or service.
Photo: Scott Burns
(c) Scott Burns, 2019