This old manufactured home:
I have a confession to make. I am not the kind of person who has frequent epiphanies. I do have them, but they are pretty rare. So I was surprised, the other day, when I had one.
My Epiphany
I’m spoiled. I live in a world of Internet Time.
I live in that world as a writer. I live in it as a consumer. When you live in Internet Time, everything happens when you want it to happen. Which is right now. You look for something. You find it. You have it.
I live in that world so completely most of the time that I am like a fish in water, not aware of the water.
Oh, yes, if it’s one of those difficult things – an actual object with weight and form — it may take longer than a minute. But Amazon will make it appear on the doorstep in a day or two. It will seem like magic unless you get a glimpse of the UPS deliveryman darting back to his truck.
The Decimation of Time and Space
So I have been living in what historian Arnold Toynbee said was the goal of western culture. He called it “the annihilation of space and time.” To be sure, neither space nor time has been entirely annihilated just yet, but they have been thoroughly decimated.
I’ve also been living in Internet Time for many years, beginning with a Zenith computer and a slow modem in 1981, nearly 15 years before HTML and the World Wide Web. That’s why I’m spoiled.
I’ve forgotten, like a painful memory, that Real Time and Internet Time are very different. Real Time is persnickety. It involves engaging other humans to accomplish this or that. And some of those things hit snags, problems, etc.
You can get into some things and, before you know it, you’re in a FUBAR situation. Anything that can go wrong has gone wrong. Worse, there isn’t even a toehold to make things right. Time crawls across your skin.
Returning to the Real Time World
But when you buy 22 acres in a rural area and take on the project of rebuilding two singlewides that haven’t been occupied or had electric power since early 2001, well, you’re deep in the world of Real Time.
That’s when you rediscover, in a very direct way, how much it takes to get things done, particularly if you aren’t the Complete Robinson Crusoe. Everything involves acts of coordination with other people with special skills and talents.
A Real Time List
Every step, every part, is necessary to make this (or that) actually get done. Here’s a list:
— A surveyor, to establish property boundaries in a soup of rights-of-way
— A title company, to insure title. Even when the seller can’t answer a “yes” or “no” question like, “Are you married” with the required “yes” or “no”
— A septic tank inspector/consultant and a septic tank pump truck man
— Salvage and scrap guys to remove and take away things that have some value
— A demolition man to take down and remove buildings beyond repair
— A dumpster provider to lay down and cart away all the debris
— A local dump for small truckloads of debris that doesn’t charge like it was nuclear waste
— An HVAC contractor to install new heating systems
— An electrician to install new electric services
— A leveler to, yes, level the manufactured homes and reinforce their support
— A locksmith to change locks and keys as necessary
— A carpenter to rebuild, replace and perform not-so-small miracles
— A plumber to replace most plumbing
— A cabinetmaker to make kitchen, bathroom and wall cabinets
— A flooring team to install new flooring
— A counter maker to cut and install granite countertops
— A team of painters to paint inside and out
— A deck builder to make outside decks
— A well and water expert to advise on same
— A brush-clearing team for acres of cedars with a machine borrowed from “Avatar”
— A wildlife consultant to advise on trees, grasses and wildlife support
— Not to mention two consignment stores for abundant sales and purchases
We shouldn’t be surprised if this takes time — real time — and that things go wrong, particularly since the only tool I handle well is a broom.
But here’s what I love about Texas
Even in a tapped-out, gonzo boom economy, an economy where houses sell before formal listing, it has been possible to find skilled “can-do” guys who do good work, fast.
Sure, it may not be Internet Time fast, but it’s close enough. Both places will be ready for our move in June, just six months after closing.
—————————————————–
Related columns:
Scott Burns, “This old mobile home: raze or save?,” 1/12/2019 https://scottburns.com/this-old-mobile-home-raze-or-save/
Scott Burns, “This old mobile home: The Joy of Tear-Out,” 2/25/2019 https://scottburns.com/joy-of-tear-out/
Scott Burns, “On the level … and going with the flow,” 3/8/2019 https://scottburns.com/on-the-level-and-going-with-the-flow/
Scott Burns, “Stuff: Do we really need it?,” 4/20/2019
https://scottburns.com/stuff-do-we-really-need-it/
Scott Burns, “This Old Mobile Home: Lessons from a Book Purge, 5/7/19 https://scottburns.com/this-old-mobile-home-lessons-from-a-book-purge/
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, Looking West
(c)Scott Burns, 2019