At the Before party I was surprised at the number of people who offered to help me do the demolition work in preparation for my remodeling plans. Now maybe this was just being polite, but I got the sense, especially from some of the women in the group, that this would actually be a fun activity for them. Perhaps it is the appeal of fulfilling the urge, suppressed in the raising of girls, to smash things and to destroy stuff. Swinging a sledge hammer may have some cathartic benefit. Other folks, usually guys, just wanted to participate for the entertainment value.
I considered the idea of a “demolition day”, inviting these would-be demolition crew members to tear down walls and cabinets and rip up flooring. I could offer them “unpaid internships” and cut my labor cost for that part of the project. Not that I know anything about demolition and old houses, but hey, how hard can it be?
I investigated dumpster rental. I discovered that construction debris can be recycled if you contract the right service. I found Atomic Recycling, a company with a retro name that specializes in recycling such material. What size would I need? I was told that 20 yards could hold an entire double garage. I mentally tried to image this– oh! I guess he meant after the garage was demolished. The smallest dumpster was ten yards. I would discover that this is an enormous volume.
My Minneapolitan friend Rich explained the efficient recycling system that works in the city. If you have anything with any functional value, or anything metal, don’t put it in the dumpster, set it outside, in street view and it will be gone by morning. The scavengers (they prefer the term “scrappers”) scan the streets and alleys for valuable materials which then vanish with them, to reappear later, installed in a different home, or melted and reincarnated in some other form.
I gathered and borrowed a number of tools for the work to come– hammers of all sizes, pry bars, chisels, impact wrenches, and sawzalls. I bought work gloves and safety glasses, and assembled a first aid kit.
Then I sent a dozen invitations to a demolition party, offering cold drinks and pizza as enticement but recommending appropriate footwear. I didn’t have a hint how many would actually show up.