Stanley Kubrick is Renovating My Basement

Stan Kubrick's "Paths of Glory" was on the tube the other eve. I had it on with the sound off as I noodled around on the old keyboard. Koobs (that's what he would've never let me call him) was 29 when he directed it. A filmmaking infant. Yet if you let yer eyes roam around each scene you'll see he had an uncanny sense for detail. Even at twenty effin' nine. I was still figuring out how to dislodge my thumb at that age.

Every frame, meticulously crafted. Beautiful pools of light give the eye plenty to feast on. This is a man obsessed with minutae.

He must've driven the actors, producers, crew, and wifey nuts. I can hear em all now, "For the love of GOD, Stan, it's fine! Can we please move on!?"

But that's what made him great, I suppose. I guess I could say the same thing for Mark. Mark is my neighbor who happens to be a master carpenter. He's been renovating my basement for what seems like the last decade.

My humble little basement is his Acropolis. Yes, he installed Greek columns. Made them by hand from flat pieces of MDF (Lord only knows how he did it). I think the columns are a bit excessive for a 6 1/2 foot ceiling, but who am I to argue?

See, I'm giving Mr. Mark as much creative freedom as possible in exchange for an affordable rate. My basement is his cherry project, a portfolio piece. And, being in the ad biz, I know the importance of a good portfolio.

I've lent a hand here and there when he's asked for it, but most days, I just let him go. Besides, when I do help, I just stand behind him with handful of drywall screws. That's my job: a drywall screw dispenser.

Needless to say, he's doing a crackerjack job down there, his monument to the Gods. But it's s-l-o-w going. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "That's good enough, Mark. Can we please move on?" He'll turn and glare at me without a word. He'll hold it there until I realize it's time for me to put the screws down and go make him coffee.

GM