It took me no time at all to extrapolate an entire kitchen design from a single photo… a photo that is completely indistinct and has nothing to do with anything kitchen-related.
I am just that good.
I walked downstairs and silently handed the computer to Paul… Then I waited patiently, because the concept might not be immediately apparent if you are not blessed with my innate ability and imagination.
Also, the person who speaks first loses.
Paul said– I cannot even begin to guess what conversation we are about to have.
So I started explaining my idea… Roughly, it is that you put the plaster pieces at the ceiling like crown molding, but bumped out so that they are flush with the face of our imaginary cabinetry.
This would be glorious.
Let’s take a moment to imagine it.
Paul looked like he was unsure of where to begin, so he just waded right in with irrelevant commentary.
He started saying things like – plaster… heavy… huge… ceiling… attach… support… safety… structural instability… wall collapsing.
I said – NOPE.
If it came out of a house, it can go INTO a house.
Specifically, our house.
Paul said– this entire idea will look totally bizarre. And half-assed.
I said – to you, maybe. To me, the gloriousness will outweigh the half-assedness.
Paul said– I cannot imagine doing returns on that.
I said – returns? What are you talking about?
All you have to do is stick it up there… WHO CARES WHAT THE ENDS LOOK LIKE?
Paul said— so let me understand… you are proposing a kitchen plan that has nothing to do with the kitchen?
I said— not at all! THERE IS MORE!
Along with the giant fancy molding, we would acquire some antique, floor-to-ceiling glass doors– in lieu of cabinetry. But specifically ones that are NOT just boring old French doors… ones that are way more unique and interesting and special, with the original fancy hardware.
(No matter that I have been looking for these for a year, and they have yet to show up.)
Paul said – ignoring all other considerations, like where you propose we are moving the refrigerator and stove, do you understand HOW TALL 16 inches is? Aside from being completely disproportionate to our house and impossible to work with, that is a lot of wasted space.
Paul has done this to me before – ruined perfectly glorious ideas by giving me cause to second guess myself… But I decided, no. Anything this good cannot be bad. It might be difficult and impractical, but that is not the same as wrong.
Paul said – fine. Please understand that I am not endorsing this idea, but find out what he wants for a few sections, and then we can talk about it more.
I said – a few sections? I will need to buy ALL OF IT.
Paul said – eh? What? No. That would be like… he looked at the computer again— 175 FEET… we only need maybe 25… What are you going to do with the other 150 feet?
I said – I will hoard it. It will be the most ultimate hoard ever… People will build SHRINES to me as The Supreme Hoarder.
Probably I will have a national holiday named after me.
Paul said – I am unsure if you are actually this unstable, or if you just do this to rattle me.
You read that, right? THE REAL DEAL.
But when I called the guy, it turns out that HIS definition of “the real deal,” is FAR different than mine.
The molding is a reproduction. It is real in the sense that it IS plaster/heavy/unwieldy, but NOT real in the sense that it is old/original-to-building-of-magnificence-and-history.
All my enthusiasm drained away.
It is one thing to commit to something ridiculous in the name of giant fancy things from an amazing Gilded Age mansion… It is an entirely different thing to commit to GFT’s from a catering hall, circa 1980.