1 yr anniversary post :: thank you all for reading

Since November marks the one year anniversary of the Agents of Moxie -- I wanted to re-post my first few lines, well, mainly because you might have missed them.

But before I do -- I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has visited. I do my best to post something of interest to one of the four buckets at least once weekly.

I will probably be working at the beginning of 2010 to redesign the four into one. But until then, and I don't know about you, I want to say -- I have learned a lot. Thank You and BMoxie BMore! jb

: Agents of Moxie
I know. It sounds like that indy rock band I never formed. I mean, "The Agents of Moxie." And I began thinking about prototypical pieces for this portion of my undertaking. I already knew that this section should be dedicated to stories of persons, places and things that inspire us to expand ourselves. I knew it is about paying homage and giving back.

And there they were, after a few scattered hours of thought, ideas. And while there is no question that some of these topics will eventually appear in these pages, as the first article, they came and they went. Except this idea, this one idea came and it stuck. I said to myself, "I will lead with a piece about my grandfather." And in that, I realized the point. The "Agents of Moxie" is for me (or anyone else that writes here). It is in all ways self-serving, and maybe a little bit vain.

********

To read where most of my moxie comes from:

Once I saw my grandfather tune an engine with a box wrench (part 1): http://www.agentsofmoxie.com/2008/11/once-i-saw-my-grandfather-tune-engine.html

Once I saw my grandfather tune an engine with a box wrench (part 2): http://www.agentsofmoxie.com/2008/11/once-i-saw-my-grandfather-tune-engine_26.html

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More Moxie:

the Agents of Moxie :: at home -- http://agentsofmoxie-home.blogspot.com
the Agents of Moxie :: on the job -- http://agentsofmoxie-jobs.blogspot.com
the Agents of Moxie :: in the 'hood -- http://agentsofmoxie-hood.blogspot.com

The Moxie of Interior Design (aka Legos and White Zombie)

A Note from your host: I can always count on @ajwdesignco for daily tidbits of design advice. But when Alycia dropped a comment onto a recent post here, I just had to ask. You see, Alycia Wicker blogs at http://www.casamoxie.com. I mean -- how much do you love the word "Casa?" (smile) So I said, "Sister Moxie, do you want to do a guess post?" And well, here it is. Alycia's take on moxie in interior design. jb

A Guest Post by Alycia Wicker

As a certified interior designer, I like many other designers, have had to forge my own path. Finding my place in the world of design wasn’t an easy thing. The one thing that I have always had, though, was my determination to be the best person I could be, and a desire to do the best at whatever I attempted.

I grew up playing with Legos and consuming home floor plan magazines with a vengeance. I dreamed what it would be like to be in the spaces I was building, while visually devouring the rooms from the magazines. My mind was wrapped up early on in these thoughts; what was it like to be in these spaces, how did they function, and how did they affect the people who would be in them.

When I started out in design school, all I had was a dream. I wanted to design, but I had yet to discover what my design philosophy was. Looking around, though, I still thought I was way behind the others in my class, those who knew what their “style” was.

Of course, looking back, it didn’t really matter what my style was. I just knew I had to design things that reflected my personality and that stayed true to my sensibilities. This turned out to be my design philosophy: Do right by design, do right by people, and all is good.

*********

While in college, we had a project to redesign a firehouse into a bed and breakfast. Well, while my classmates went into their predictable designs, I went off the beaten path. I designed something that I thought only those interested in the macabre would enjoy. I called my bed and breakfast the “Devil’s Den”.

A part of this project also included building a model. So within the Devil’s Den, I created a glass coffin reception desk and added a chalk outline of a dead body in the reception area. The door to the elevator was a bookcase facade as a hat tip to the hidden passageways of old movies. The stair railing support was to be created with wrought iron in the design of a spider web, a spider on it. The wallpaper was black and white stripes reminiscent of the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.

When I presented this project, I played White Zombie’s “Super Charger Heaven”. I was so excited to present this idea that really interested me, yet was totally different than anything anyone else would have thought of. When I finished my presentation, the teacher asked, “Do you really think anyone would want to stay here? Class?”

My heart stopped. I could only wonder what my peers would think. I was pleasantly surprised when the entire class said they would love to stay in this place. Then they started discussing all the fun events that could be held at my fictitious bed and breakfast.

That’s when I realized the power of design and the power of moxie. I went my own way. I never knew if my design would be a hit, but going boldly into a different design path, one that hasn’t been seen a thousand times over I found what true interior design moxie is. By thinking outside of the box, getting excited about the design, and inspiring people to dream what is possible -- I found me.

Since then, I haven’t designed any more macabre designs, but I still think of that project from time to time. It reminds me to design in a way that makes people think. It reminds me to design for people. People who would rather keep it real, and not just go with what hoity-toity designers say is good.

And good interior design with moxie keeps it real for real people at all times.

-- Alycia Wicker is the Certified Interior Designer behind AJW Design Co and Casa Moxie, on twitter @ajwdesignco. She is based out of Corona, CA. As a former band geek, grave hunter, Elvis Presley fanatic, and Nascar fan, you'll find that she is not your average interior designer. She designs for Mr. and Mrs. America by creating rooms that can be implemented by the homeowner with no designer mark up.

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More Moxie:
Inland Empire AJW Design Co Creates Happiness: http://ajwdesignco.com/
The Home of e-Decorating: http://casamoxie.com
Fundamental building blocks: http://www.lego.com/en-US/default.aspx

Ten Hammers (a dictum) aka deconstructing the hammer

Blogging since last November, this is only about the second time I am not exactly sure what will be coming out the other end. I apologize in advance if I am wordy or if I rant . . . and here it goes.

I have only spoken briefly about my last house – a 1920s cedar-shaked Colonial. It was a large hulking structure on a street filled with duplexes, I-houses, and bungalows. And that’s what my neighbor Thomas had . . . a bungalow.

Thomas and I are actually quite different. He is a smart, gritty, street-savvy entrepreneur, the owner of a local coffee establishment. He is in all ways representative of the diy super-culture that exists here in Baltimore. He is a friend.

As neighbors, we did share a couple common interests; for one, our love of beer. While he is strictly a micro-brew guy, for me, it’s always the mass-produced Miller Lite. For two, and another odd thing we had in common, we both lived in houses partially renovated by the same man, a carpenter.

Scott did a great job with both of these houses; there is no question. Yet, there was much work that remained. And when Thomas asked me up one Saturday, I knew I was going to be giving him help with an item on his to-do list.

Preparing the opening

Thomas didn’t call me over for my expertise; he had the matter well in hand. But this day, he needed, well, another hand.

Thomas had been working on installing pull down attic stairs. Like many bungalow owners with growing families, he was concerned about, and trying to access an underutilized portion of his house. With stairs, he’d be able to use a small bit of the “third floor” for storage.

The ceiling on his second floor was finished with plaster and lath. He had a very solid plan of attack for it. (More on this in the More Moxie section below.) I would be his spotter, or was that his “catcher;” he needed to protect his refinished floors from falling debris.

That day, he made some cuts and a smallish section of the ceiling was removed almost perfectly to plan. I did my part; I eased the cutout, extending from the existing attic access, down to the covered floor.

It’s heavy, hoppy micro-brew Time!

The origin of the Ten Hammers

So as Thomas and I hung for a bit, talking over a beer, it came up. I am not sure how. I don’t remember if it was before I told him about my time working for a general contractor, or after he had told me that his dad was a sheet metal contractor.

Not sure if it was before we laughed about my first experience with demoing plaster, or after he had told me he worked for a bit in set construction on stage crews. But he said it. “You know the saying . . .” he paused, “You give ten carpenters a hammer. . . .”

And that was it, or at least what I remember him actually saying. And to be honest, I did not know the saying.

The hammer is a tool used in construction, or . . . is that . . . “de”construction

So I left, and went about my business that Saturday. But here we are, and for some reason, those few little words, like a riddle, left me thinking.

Let’s be fair, too, and I will show my age, and expertise, I probably have as much experience with pneumatic tools as I do with a hammer. But . . . I still know what one is. It was the first known iteration of an impact tool; it is used to drive things, like nails.

It is a symbol of the worker, of the god, of the warrior, of the carpenter. Does it take skill and focus to wield a hammer? Yes, absolutely. I find that you (general) must focus dead set on your target, an extension of your hand, and becoming one with it, you deliver a blow.

So I try to finish the phrase. And I haven’t spoken with Thomas about this since. I think what he was trying to get across was . . . "You (can) give ten carpenters a (the same) hammer, and they will all swing it in 10 different ways." One hammer becomes ten.

The final blows and setting the nail

There are many different kinds of hammers, each with a design for its specific purpose. And you may have a favorite one for each of the myriad of construction-type tasks you must perform. (I always hear about Tom Silva’s series of 20 ouncers, you know, with the wooden handle shopped to look like Swiss cheese.)

Picking and using a hammer, for me, is all about feel. Sure, it’s OK to look for features, and to take your time when selecting.

(Question: Why don't hardware stores or home centers give you a place for a good test drive. A table where you could, I don't know, bang some nails? Liability?)

But . . . it should all come down to how that hammer feels in your hand. And remember, they are different one to the next.

So I think, in the end, what my neighbor Thomas was really trying to say that day, and I am not sure what sparked it, was -- Everyone is different, and that the hammer is really only as good as the person who wields it.

ps: If anyone would like to contribute a hammer story of any kind, please feel free. The photo above is courtesy of Mike Hines at HomePath Products (@eXapath). It is the world’s first (his words) Fiber-To-The-Hammer device.

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More Moxie:
*Zeke’s Coffee -- locally roasted: http://www.zekescoffee.com/
*Ten Types of Hammers from HammerNet.com: http://www.hammernet.com/select.htm
*Tom Silva’s holey hammer -- can’t find it, but here is his bio for TOH: http://www.thisoldhouse.com/toh/biography/0,,420219,00.html

A short how-to for making cutouts in plaster (This is the technique Thomas was using):

Because he was working from an existing attic access, which measured roughly 30x30, he needed only to extend the opening, making a cut-out long ways above the hallway. To do this, and since he was removing plaster and lath, he came up with this procedure. In his situation, the opening was to run with his framing. It requires two people, and the resulting waste will be heavy! So . . . SAFETY FIRST!

1. Take two or three 2x4s (preferably scrap) and cut two pieces just short of the length of the desired cut-out. Then cut four pieces just short of the width of the cut-out.
2. With two people, one working above, hold the longer 2x4s just slightly inside the perimeter of the planned opening.
3. With some sort of squared up working lines, and with a solid point of reference (gained maybe from several pilot holes), hold the shorter 2x4s at regular intervals across the proposed opening. Working together, screw two 3 1/2 inch screws into each board. These screws go up through the bottom cleat, through the plaster and lath, and into the cleat above. (Trust me – this will not be easy.)
4. Now, take a sturdy rope, approximately a 16 foot length, and attach it the top side of the assembly in some manner. Attach it at, at least, two points in a widespread manner.
5. Then, take the free end of the rope and tie it off somewhere. In our situation, a sturdy collar tie above our heads worked very nicely.
6. Drill a large starter hole, approximately 1 ¼”, just inside each corner of the proposed cut-out.
7. Note: We were going for a rough cut that day, but with a little more precision and accuracy, we could have made a full-blown jig for the cut-out we were creating. In other words, we could have made a full “ladder," offsetting it on the underside, and using it as a guide for the fence on our sawzall.
8. On the cut link – make your cut with a reciprocating, or a mess-making circular saw (using a disguardable blade). At this point, it is not a bad idea to have one person above holding the rope.
9. When the cut is complete, pry the lath away from the framing, untie the rope and lower the slab of now free plaster and lath to the ground. One person spots from below.

In doing this, and while you do need to be conscious of existing framing members, you will keep the plaster and lath coupled – greatly minimizing dust and debris. Later, Thomas came back -- to frame the opening, and finished with a standard set of pull down stairs.

assumptions make an . . . well, you know

Chicken and Egg

I want to state again for the record, and for full disclosure's sake that I have a day job. It has demands, deadlines, and I owe at least some loyalty to it. My employer, after all, trusted me (and my skills) enough to allow me to represent them, now, on two separate occasions.

My day job feeds my family, keeps me in clothes, and allows me to stay out of foreclosure. These are good things. Basic needs . . . one might say.

So . . . please, do not for one second assume that I have a thriving business. In fact, and in my mind, I haven’t even “launched” it yet. The target date for completion of my baseline infrastructure is softly set for March 1, 2010. This is the day that I plan to begin actively promoting myself, and my business.

Still -- you might ask -- Do you get inquiries now; is there interest; do you take jobs? Yes, Yes, and Yes. But the real answer is, for each of these questions – honestly, not enough to quit my day job.

Part of starting a business is finding a good financial planner

I have a network. (Yeah, one that doesn’t start with the word “social.”) Within that network, I am fortunate to have some professional-types, including, well, one hell of a top notch accountant. I think he would prefer, so I will say it; he is a “small business advisor."

I met Chris S. at his office around six. His office, a piece of work, is filled with more clocks than any one man needs . . . about 40 to be exact. (Hmmm . . . I wonder what point he is trying to get across.) He knew ahead of time I hoped to review the financials associated with my business plan. I assumed he wouldn't bill me, and in the end, he didn't.

Chris has some great stories, and offered many good points. For weeks after, though, it seemed I was left to mubble two things: 1. “What are my assumptions?” and 2. “Accountants are business people, too.”

assumptions make an a** out of me

I remember the first time I hung a full room of drywall. It was the middle room of our first house as a married couple, and not the ceiling, 12 sheets total. Sure, I worked around it as a punch-out guy. In fact, I had gotten pretty good at doing quick repairs on it. But I had never tackled an entire room solo.

I dialed up some how-to articles, asked some friends, and, in general, I studied. Hang, fasten, tape, block, skim, sand – easy enough.

In an old house – a 1920’s federal-style rowhome in Uppers Fells Point, the only full bath had at some point been awkwardly placed within the footprint of this room. By my estimates, the last time these rooms were updated – roughly 1980.

So the day came (this was back before I had kids). I probably loaded in the night before, and was ready to go with an eight am start – Saturday. And boom – like a superstar, I made it happen . . . the room was glued, screwed; taped and blocked by the end of that Sunday night. I was the man!

Then I went to work Monday morning. Back in those days, I would return home after work and would often get a few things accomplished. By Saturday of the next week, we were ready for primer – the “show coat." I primed, still super proud of myself, and after a few hours working side by side with my wife (she’s really the painter) – the walls were primed.

Two coats of deep red satin paint went on that Sunday.

More on the Show Coat

There is was, at the top of the wall -- the one you turned right into when you came up the stairs – a gigantic hump. Not a hump in my taping, you know, not poorly feathered edges, but a hump in the wall.

Now – if you know me by now, I am pretty neurotic. I couldn’t live with this. But I just didn't see it initially. So, what did I do? I cut it out, a 2x2 area, and it wasn’t easy – right there at the ceiling. But I did it, and I did get it fixed by the following weekend.

What was the problem? You might ask. Well, I made the stupid assumption that the walls I had just removed dated sheet-paneling from were . . . plumb and square!

Today, I work framing checks into all of my project schedules, and this has never happened to me again. But that first time, I had to learn, you know, the hard way.

Setting the record straight

You might have read recently about the roof job I finished for a neighbor. Simply put, I know I could have done a better job.

If you read it, I know where I went wrong . . . and maybe I still have much to learn (the issue much deeper). I assumed that the work my friend did prior to me arriving was, well, perfect. I didn’t realize that it wasn’t until it was far too late.

There and then, this piece was sparked. If I want to move forward with what I plan (here with Building Moxie), I better correct that behavior fast.

*******

As the big builder used to say, Rule #1 – Never put good work over bad. That is simple and smart. In other words, never assume that what has come before you is actually true and correct, because it may burn you. Always check! (And I won’t tell you what Rule #2 is.)

Green is the new black & all start ups are based on assumptions

I always like to say this in my big monster truck voice, hear me, “ASSUMPTIONS.” Yes, and all business plans are based on assumptions. I assume fundamentally that my prospects, my audience have a need for what I offer. If they do not, they will tell me. And I will react.

*******

I have been out in this "social" world, more than less openly, for the last three months. It strikes me as odd, though, as I began coming out, just how frequently I would be fingered as “green.”

Sure, there are some elements of me, and more elements of my business that are mindful of home-smart, earth-friendly techniques. But to come at me as if I am proponent of everything with a stamp of “green" on it, would be a bad assumption.

Building Moxie is, as I have told people (and some with more success than others), blue, brown & . . . green. And what I mean -- it is all the colors of a prism (and sometimes none), personally fitted to suit each individual's individual needs.

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More Moxie:
Tons of great articles and videos out there on how to hang & finish drywall, I can't pick just one: http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=how+to+hang+and+finish+drywall&aq=f&oq=&aqi=

do I as I do, not as I say

Just a . . .

I was hanging out after a concert with a friend I hadn't seen for awhile, when we got into a conversion with a woman who had also been in the show.

During the show, she (I think her name was Carol) had spun around quickly, and to the first person she could find, said, "Wow!" and pointing to the guy in front of her, "I have been married to this guy for 17 years!" And you can probably guess it -- the guy she was talking about was her husband, and the person she was speaking to was . . . me.

So . . . the occasion arose, and I gave her a card. To which she responded instantly, "So, you have moxie?" My answer, "I don't know that I have moxie, but read the card, I am building moxie."

And . . . I do think it is a collective activity :: Thank you all who have some, especially when you are willing to share. It is an ongoing process.

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More Moxie:
Skunk Tech Boards :: http://www.skunktechboards.com

six of one, half dozen of another (and is there space in between?)

Sometimes . . . I think, I'm an enigma even to myself.

On one hand, and personally, I can be fairly impulsive. And when you work around homes, in construction, this probably is not a good way to be. In fact, it is the antithesis of what I preach. Building Moxie, I have hinted at this, is about doing your homework and making smart decisions.

So there, on the other hand – professionally – I have a way of breaking things down, well, systematically. I find that by looking at “data,” organized by task or system – you can set yourself up to analyze efficiently . . . and, hence, allow yourself to make good decisions. I can help you with this, and this is what I bring to the table.

Some are big . . .

Back briefly into the way-back machine, I think about my time when I was “right out of college.” I was working for the League of American Bicyclists as a part-time editorial assistant. After about nine months of doing this, and at 23, they offered me a full-time position. Doing what? I honestly don’t remember.

Conditional.

Now, at 23, I looked at myself. Was I ready for a full-time job? I don’t know – I guess I had a decision to make. So I did. That flowchart, and its path, lead out to Winter Park, CO for sun, fun, and one of the most beautiful parts of our country.

Wow – what an impact that decision probably made on my life. Good? Yes. Bad? Yes. Good/Bad, Bad/Good. Yes and No. In retrospect, that time, along with the few other rhombuses I have faced, was just a bit of the experience that makes up . . . me.

Will I ever have a chance, ever again, to be an editor at, say, Remodeling Magazine? Probably not. But hey – that decision I never regret; it freed me up, and I did other things.

End Process?

. . . and some are small

Decisions – now, that one above was a little life impacting; a “what if I would have went that way?”-type of decision . . . and I lead with it. Truth told, though, that really wasn't what got me thinking about this piece. It happened on a much more insignificant scale.

Maybe you read, in the summer, about my goings-on in our laundry room. The idea hit me there when I was, innocently, hanging the shelves in the room’s now refinished closet.

I mean – do you know the formula? Builders, thanks to the big brains of architects, know exactly the height at which shelving should go – designers/builders too . . . but me – working impulsively; I figured I could make that decision . . . on the fly.

I looked around, and I thought – hmmm wall cabinets; hmmm where is the wife? OK . . . out with the girls, and of course the bottoms at 54” from the floor.

What was this closet going to be used for? The wife and I had talked about it briefly; I mean -- about what was going into it. Was a decision made; was anything put on paper? Nope.

So as I sometimes do – I went with it. I thought to myself, "I need a broom." OK, and I grabbed a couple standard-sized sweeping brooms. (Judging from what I saw, and at least in my house, each -- right around 50 to 52 inches in height.)

That’s it! So I’ll set the bottom shelve at about 54”, and space the rest at about 11 inches apart (roughly the height of a standard liquid detergent bottle).

Yeah – that’s it, and in a matter of an hour, my salvaged wood shelves were installed. Two, at least. "Should I go for a third?"

Just about that time, my wife returned home from the pool, the grocery store, from shopping, or from wherever. “Hey babe. Do you like what I have going on in here?”

She said, “Yep, (long pause) the vacuum cleaners will fit, right?”

Data! Vacuum Cleaners! and they did fit easily.

Cons and Pros

There are many, many, many . . . decisions that we as hi-functioning and reasoning mammals must make in a lifetime. And there are few that must be made in the course of executing any home project.

In life, you’ll agree, there are big decisions, and there are little decisions. The big ones should not be taken lightly – and that statement may seem trite. But it is the little decisions, to me, that sometimes seem to get all of the attention. No?

And, well, as far as home decisions, are they all really six of one and half dozen of another?

Probably not, but a lot of times -- maybe it is just a matter of the language you use, or how you are keeping score.

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More Moxie:
*Standard closet shelving height: http://www.closetmaid.com/Install/How_To_Guide/measspace.cfm

*Leaugue of American Bicyclists: http://www.bikeleague.org/

*The authoritative source for information on the remodeling industry, and the home of one rock star cool senior editor: http://www.remodeling.hw.net/