Friday, February 29, 2008

A Bath Remodeled (part one)

I have a theory that a bathroom can be torn apart and rebuilt gloriously new in a week—start on Monday, finish on Friday. Not often physically working jobs in many years, however, I have yet to prove it true.



To a client, I predict a bathroom remodel will inconvenience them for about a month. I like to say we will put a guy in there, close the door, and let him out when it is finished. Realistically, it works best with one multi-talented carpenter. Accommodating all the schedules of all the trades can stretch it into months.

The market for a bathroom renovator is wide open. Consider all the homes built in the 70’s and 80’s. The fixtures are worn out, the fan broken (if there was one), the window inefficient, and the tile cruddy. A smart carpenter, selling a package deal, could stay busy endlessly.

In thirty years, I have contracted, designed and completed more bathrooms than I want to count. Depending on their choices of products, a standard 5x8 renovation , including floors , walls, new fixtures, vanity, fan, and a window, typically costs between ten and twenty thousand dollars. It can be done if it is their only bath, but it really helps the job if they have somewhere else to go.



I actually don’t close the door, but take it right off the hinges to provide better access. I would love to salvage, recycle and minimize the tear-out, but it seldom pays to save or work around anything. Gut the place right down to the frame and you can put it back straight and new.

This week, I have actually gotten my hands scratched and dirty. Since it was so cramped and there were square inches to steal from the kitchen, I took a rounded wall out completely, sacrificing character on the outside for practicality on the inside. Dead spaces no longer needed for ductwork also came out of the floor plan. Now there is plenty of room to flap elbows.

An inefficient cobweb of plumbing, I tore it all out and rerouted to add a second shower head. The floor will be level, the walls square and sporting a tall cabinet for linens. An exhaust fan vented through the basement to the outside will make a big difference. Better lighting and a GFI complete the circuit.



The fourth day into the project, I won’t be making my dream deadline, but taping the sheetrock has begun, and it only gets easier from here. It takes more time than I would like, but the satisfaction of falling asleep as I write this—muscle sore and finger cut—is sweet reminder that it is good work, so much well accomplished.

Beyond the dollars earned, one has the right to feel proud.

Please share with your friends

Monday, February 25, 2008

Shouts and Whispers

The movie “Multiplicity” has a great opening scene where Michael Keaton, a contractor, shows up and cheerfully praises his crew for installing a beautiful driveway. They’re all happy until he screams that it’s the wrong house.

Communication with the crew is no less important than with your client. The assumption that a well-drawn plan or verbal directions will get the job done right is not at all safe. No matter how skilled the job leader, without clear communication, the profit can disintegrate as quickly as a saw can scratch marble in a room that was supposed to remain untouched.

As a kid, we played “Whisper Down the Lane”, delighted with the deviations in phrase from the first to the last in line. It is not funny, however, when the understanding of the last guy, the one actually doing the work, differs from the client who has to live with mistakes.

There are so many people involved in a project, making twice that many opportunities for misunderstanding. The client sits in their over-crowded or out-moded space month after month, feeding on ideas of what they would like to have. To a complete stranger, an architect or designer, they attempt to explain their dream and he’ll draw his version of their vision. The contractor (perhaps the same person) will pull numbers out of experience, presuming details that may be polish where the client saw gold.

If the project involves a kitchen, often another designer is included with bells, whistles, and recycle drawers on rollers. The plumber and electrician each have their exact spots where wires and pipes can and cannot go to make the finished wall look like what they think the client wants.

And finally, there is the crew, those loyal guys on the job every day, cutting out and putting back new. In actuality, living with the client, they get more details than anyone. They develop their own rapport and loyalty such that if the contractor becomes overly budget driven, the crew ensures the quality of each cut, placement and finish.

The spokes on a wheel works as a beautiful metaphor with the contractor at the center. As Michael Keaton's character learned, it only adds complications when throwing in more wheels, not speed. Communication is what makes it roll smoothly and efficiently, brings the vision to reality.

Please share with your friends

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

To See or Not to Say

While contemplating the topic of communication for my next blog entry, a distressed call from a client in New York City provided the perfect opening. The reloading of the rebuilt pantry in their Vermont ski home caused some shelving to collapse, leaking vinegar under the brand new floor.




Simple communication could have avoided the calamity entirely, or at least minimized the trauma to a woman already disrupted by a $20,000 price tag for a leaky dishwasher. Had I communicated better, the decision would have been hers. Lacking that, the responsibility is entirely mine, and on her post-construction report to the insurance company, the client is likely to erase "beautiful" and underscore "shoddy."

Too easily, the relations of client and carpenter swing on subtle phrases and shifts of body. Immediately, I was understanding from all manner of their communication that this repair needed to be timely and efficient, completed within a definite period to allow them to return to New York. No matter the stresses on our part, the clients communicated clearly their need to finish.

Then was the time to address issues of distance from shop to job (it was not our usual stomping grounds) and winter road conditions. The normal renovation unknowns were also in play: how easily would things come apart; how available were materials; how much coffee to keep the work going forward would equally require trips to the bathroom. Lastly, the drop cloths and protective poly needed to be set up and taken down each day so they could eat.



It is difficult to communicate these "ifs, buts and wells" to a new client without creating doubt and distrust. In those first moments as strangers about to become housemates, much needs to be established, yet the language best used is not at all clear. Your green might be their red, but you are both optimistically opening your cans of paint and spreading the color. There is trust that it will all come to a good conclusion.

Along the way, things happen and the language is invented. The client sees the carpenter works diligently and learns a little about the wife and kids. A few cups of coffee offered goes a long way to win the carpenter's interest in making that next cut a little tighter.

The carpenter becomes comfortable enough to request that cars be moved to store material in the garage. In conversation, the clients reveal their reasons that work cannot continue in their absense, so with a little more understanding, the carpenter pushes harder to finish. Good communication negotiates that the baseboard can be left for later, but the pantry must be restocked.



On the last day, shelf uprights made offsite were delivered to be installed. I discovered then that without warning me, my trusty cabinet maker had used a more standard sized hole, and the older clips for adjustable shelving would not hold. Too far and too little time to go back for the right clips, I "cleverly" wrapped tape on each, pushed down hard to prove holding strength, and proudly proceeded to clean up, confident the right clips could be inserted when work resumed, but in the meantime, the clients had their pantry.

My failure, then, was to not communicate to the clients my slight of clips in hand, but to tell them, instead, to load up: all was back in place. My understanding and wish to meet their needs superceeded the proper cautionary tale, the confession, and probable disappointment. No matter how well the rest of the job has gone, the one failure to inform and advise taints the entire project.

Things happen, but they can always be managed if you trust the process, stick to the rules, and chose quality over speed. Communicate, communicate, communicate. Only then is there a hope of meeting the client in the middle with the room successfully painted the color of their choice.

Please share with your friends

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Two heads or Tails

Logic dictates that what one man can do in a day, two can double and three can triple. One even argues that two together can accomplish the work of three.



Some tasks might prove this to be true, but more often than not, the extra hands can actually slow jobs down and cost more money. On a fixed price contract, this means the boss will lose. On a Cost Plus contract, the owner will begin to count the minutes of every coffee break and keep track of when members of the crew come and go.

Consider siding. Most times I have wanted to assign two to the job: one cuts and holds the end, the other measures and nails it off. But the guys always say it takes three: two in the air and one to cut on the ground. The theory is that there is enough time to feed the guy at one end of the scaffold while the other measures for his next piece.

My experience, however, is making calls from the truck and watching one or both guys stand idly. They watch the cutman measure, cut, retrieve dropped tools, recut, and adjust the radio. Up on the scaffold, there is plenty of time to catch a smoke, contemplate the blue sky, or consider the boss who gets to just sit in his truck and watch everyone else working hard.

New construction may tolerate a larger crew where everything is laid out and the plan starts at the foundation and rises to the roof. In remodeling, however, exploration and improvisation make for some hours of little production, lots of spurts and pauses; very expensive if there are too many heads scratching.



One complicated renovation a few years back, had an owner imposed deadline. When things failed to progress satisfactorily to the untrained eye, the client insisted more bodies would solve the problem (that really wasn’t a problem). The site got over-loaded, but the job did not go any faster. In fact, the job leader, the most productive guy, was neutralized having to explain and instruct, then later check and correct all the others.

Independent and dollar desperate, I have learned to do so much by myself. I’m convinced it is the most profitable scenario. A little fore-thought and experience creates the solutions to many problems. Heavy beams can be raised by one, using step ladders and braces to lift one end at a time. A few nails pre-set in place and some lines marking the spot can make hanging a ledger easy if you work from the middle out. A nail tacked above the chalk line will hold the end of a 16’ clapboard just as well as another pair of hands, and cost much less.



With no distractions, I can work a steady pace, barely stopping for lunch. Methodical tasks are accomplished in perfect (for me) order. I can evaluate a problem without losing time in discussion, or worrying about the help standing around. At the end of the day, I contemplate the production with pride and satisfaction.

But no companionship and no collegial stimulation eventually makes for an ol’ Dawg with old tricks. Overall, therefore, I stick by my recommendation of a crew size of two for just about any project. It is a rare one who prefers solitude. For most, the company keeps it fun. Often it really does help to have 4 hands on a big stick of wood. And just in case it does happen to be the day for an injury, we would be grateful to have someone there.

Day in and day out, it is great to have someone to work with. Teamwork is a wonderful thing, and when it clicks for two guys to efficiently fetch and cut, dance around each other, creating homes out of piles of lumber, they share a bond, brothers building shelters.

Please share with your friends

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Liabilities

Early in my Oregon life, I was the young kid with a new leather nailbelt and tools with no nicks or scratches. Smug with confidence, one day at lunch I drove off the dune where I was repairing rot on a house and headed to town.

At the corner, another crew was adding a basement to an older home. Instead of digging out 8 feet of sand, it seemed a great idea to raise the building four. My neck twisted in a double-take driving past as it looked like only a few posts without braces were holding up the entire house.

Even as green as I was (and I don’t mean environmentally), I thought it looked precarious. I figured the dune in between, which obstructed a portion of the house, must be hiding more substantial support. I continued on my merry way.

On the way back, however, I was amazed to see the house had toppled over, a mass of splintered wood askew grotesquely. The crew, full of adrenaline, were shaking their heads, glad to be alive. I turned right around and ordered some insurance.

It is up to the individual states whether a carpenter needs a license and/or bonding to operate, but every conscientious member of the trade working independently should carry a liability policy.

For the general guy sub-contracting his labor to other companies, it is the first criteria required to establish himself as a legitimate business. A typical policy is for $2 million and costs about $500 to $750 per year, payable in total the first year and in quarters thereafter. Technically, he cannot be paid without providing proof of insurance.

Companies typically will carry larger policies that include the risk of hiring other sub-contractors and have premiums based on a percentage of the gross volume of work. Once a year there is an audit by the company to ensure that any sub paid over $600 in the previous 12 months had, in fact, provided his proof of insurance. Otherwise, he is considered an employee and the company must pay Worker’s Comp on all his hours, a significant penalty if they have paid a few hundred thousand to uninsured subs.

Beyond the legality, it is just good business. The guys in Oregon dropped their belts and walked. With no insurance, they had no means to rebuild the cost of their mistake. In a flash of undersight, they were ruined. The clients were left with a mess—one more bad contractor story that makes it hard for the rest of us.

Please share with your friends