“Some Say That Rome Wasn’t Built in a Day”

I was in the coffee shop the other day, when I just happened to spot Ross Graham huddled with Larry Woods, Mallory Seevers, and Steve Waldschmidt around a table. This in itself was not unusual, but they also had accumulated an abnormally large mass of crumpled napkins on their table. Further, the napkins of interest were not being used to mop the customary range of various and sundry breakfast crumbs and coffee stains off their chins. But instead the napkins were being scribbled upon by one or the other of the four, and always with the rapt attention of the other three.

What’s more, Kenney Clark and Irvin Hopper were at a nearby table trying to catch glimpses of what was being drawn and discussed. And at the very minimum they were clearly not interested in the conversation at their own table.

“Aha I thought to myself, all the indicia of a new project – in the planning stage, no less. As the knowledgeable reader will recall, such signs generally begin with hushed conversations around crudely drawn blueprints on napkins or various scraps of paper. (Bingo for the first sign.) And so naturally feeling great concern for the (ahem)welfare of my fellow associates, doing the responsible thing required me to find out just exactly what (as the bard says) was “blowin’ in the wind.”

As the experienced project participant can affirm, the customary indications of architectural or mechanical activity in the infancy stages must be handled with due discretion or it might attract the attention of the ever-present I.O. or interested observer. Messrs. Clark and Hopper fill the bill in this case although the uninformed person might also include moi in a similar category.

Domestic project proponents can become victims of disaster should the details of their plan be passed directly or indirectly by an I.O. (intentionally as well as unwittingly)to the prime participant’s spouse from whom permission has not here-to-fore been obtained after full disclosure. (A word of warning – this is a disclosure which m-u-s-t include e-v-e-r-y detail and every p-o-s-s-i-b-l-e contingency.)

As unfortunate as it is to have an I.O. become involved before the project proponent has properly prepared his beloved spouse and neighbors, it can easily become worse. (For as the comedic sage, Bill Cosby, has cautioned, “Never tempt worse.”) The matter will in all cases eventually enter the territorial domain of the dreaded N.K.I.A. (Nosy Know-It-All.) And alas and alack, if this were to occur sooner rather than later . . . well let us just say that the term “catastrophe” is not adequate to describe the likely consequences.

The N.K.I.A. is the individual who feels duty-bound to spread the word, in detail, to the entire community, the fact that there is a new project underway. At a minimum his duty includes giving his “professional opinion” as to just how any new project can be expected to affect the environment and the project proponent’s family, neighborhood, and country. An N.K.I.A. is not often caught unaware by sudden events, but a urprised N.K.I.A. can be counted upon to formulate an extensive neighborhood impact statement on the spot with less than half the facts in evidence.

Woe to the project proponent that has not discussed it with his spouse prior to the time the N.K.I.A. gets wind of it. Such oversights can mushroom to a situation requiring a discussion of project details and betrayals of trust which will consequently increase the cost of the project to the proponent by the price of about two dozen roses.

Of course, the matter should be expected to arise again (perhaps many times so)in the near future, and must be smoothed out quickly each time it occurs. This is because the highly ethical NKIA will honor his code of professional conduct by informing half the town of each unfortunate development before the next sunrise. And his version of the facts may include some details that the project proponent unfortunately neglected to mention to his spouse in prior hurried confessions. (C’est la guerre.)

Anyway in the instant project, the prime contractors are reputed to be Seevers and Woods with the other parties serving as worthy advisors (or so I hear.) The terms used to describe the project include “gazebo” or “deck” and it’s rumored to have a hammock and swamp cooler for good measure.

When finished, it ought to serve as an excellent site for fine meals – just as was the case in outdoor porticos in old Rome. Come to think of it, I wonder just how long it did take to build “the eternal city.” (I also wonder if the builder cleared it with his wife first?) Maybe I’d better check with Roger Hardaway at Northwestern on this one.

Be sure to watch for future columns which will further detail the travails of the intrepid project undertaker. One can bet they will give the reader something that he or she can build upon. After all it only takes time – and money.