"I don't like to discuss Works in Progress. If I let the words tumble out prematurely, it changes it, and I may never get it back."
--Barton Fink

Friday, August 1, 2008

"How to make an Oatwheel!" or "Things I learned while high on fumes!"

What you'll need:

-2 4 x 8 sheets of hardboard
-4 1/2 cans of 3M spray adhesive
-2 gallons of DAP contact cement
-7 canisters of Cub brand rolled oats (they're on sale!)
-one plastic 9 x12 drop cloth

1. Come up with a "great" alternative plan to having oats on stage for your play. The Fringe techs would frown, otherwise.

2. Ding, ding! Oatwheel!

3. Decide that the material will be oats adhered to thin hardboard. Keep forgetting that hardboard, while sturdy, likes to wobble when carried. Alot.

4. Have your friend who has a garage volunteer an afternoon to constuct and adhere oats. Whee!

5. Have same friend redesign (over the phone) the particular way to cut the aforementioned oatwheel so it fits in your sedan. Put it all together and make an 8 foot diameter oatwheel! Huzzah!

6. Arrive at friend's house. Unload oatwheel parts to be cut with a jig saw. Success! An evenly cut circle.

7. Adhere oats with spray. Wear protective mask, even though you have no sense of smell. The fumes; they'll getcha!

8. Hm. You need more 3M spray. The oats really aren't sticking as well as you hoped. Make 2 trips back to Home Depot.

9. Oats still are not adhering the way you envisioned they would. Buy your friend and his wife pizza, because you've overstayed your welcome.

10. Your friend tries a bit of contact cement, which seems to work pretty well. He only has a small can of it, so you decide to load up the Oatwheel into your car and try again next week.

11. Make the mistake of hauling the shedding oatwheel from your parking stall, up the back stairs and onto your apartment porch. Fire up the vacuum!

12. Apply newly bought gallon of contact cement to larger oatwheel sections. Despite the apparent success at adhering oats, you make a fucking mess on the porch. The wife is going to kill you. And it apparently smells really awful (or so you are told). Call wife on the phone while she's out to prematurely apologize for the mess. Somehow, you're forgiven (hint: get emotional from the fumes- or even if it's not the fumes, get emotional!).

13. Let dry. Buy a DROP CLOTH (something that you should have done in the first place (Hm). Wrap plastic sheet around 4 stacked Oatwheel pieces. Maneuver down stairs. Despite ramming the 8 foot long unwieldy pieces repeatedly on the staircase, they survive.

14. Purchase yet one more gallon of contact cement (that makes 2!). Haul Oatwheel sections to nearby park pavilion. Repeat steps 12 and 13, without as much mess. Ask park garbage collector if the Oatwheel smells. At first he says no, then a minute later he says "Oh, I smell it now"!

15. Let dry. Most of Oatwheel is covered, although the yellowish color from the previously dried oats looks like someone peed on it. It'll do. You are so done with it.

16. Bring still smelly Oatwheel to your tech rehearsal. The smell of the adhesive is still evident, but hopefully masked by the graffiti spray project outside Intermedia Arts. Fortunately, the technicians do not detect the smell, and your fellow actors don't really complain.

Congratulations! Promise yourself that you'll never do anything like that ever again!

No comments: