Installing a Microwave Oven in 210 Days: Part 6

Ah...a happy sight.

I’ve drawn up a list of resolutions.  Hopefully, on those occasions I break the following resolutions, it will be for sound reasons. 

Rule #1: I pledge to never again believe any of the salespeople’s assurances.  They don’t know about my old appliances, or how they were installed. 

Rule #2: I will research all appliance purchases.  My new microwave’s exhaust fan is much louder than I had anticipated.  (This is not a huge issue, but it’s not like I can return the item now, either).

Rule #3: I will never again buy anything that I’m not going to use immediately.  Whether it’s an art project, installing a microwave, or something else, I pledge not to buy the item (and other associated parts, materials, etc.) and consequently let it clutter up our home until I get around to finishing doing, making, or installing said item.  In other words, don’t plan life too far ahead.  (This may be the hardest rule to follow through on).

Rule #4: I will anticipate problems, and look forward to solving them.  Even when reading the seemingly simple instructions for the wall frame, I felt as if I needed one of those cryptographic decoding machines James Bond was trying to get in “From Russia With Love.”  Or, as Kenneth Johnson said about writing his “Bionic Woman” scripts, obstacles define character.  Hungering for an easy life leads to procrastination and perfectionism.  I want to be more like Terrance Dicks, tough enough to overcome whatever problems that life throws my way.

Rule #5: I refuse to feel ashamed for choosing inelegant fixes.  Increasing the width of the dado on each cabinet, and gluing-in a strip of ¼” Oak below the shelf, might have been more elegant, but that would have taken more effort, precision, and time.  I will remember how ineffective Drax and Dran (or Perfectionism and Procrastination) were in Roger Zelazny’s story “The Slow Kings.”  After all, the brackets were inexpensive (parts and materials only cost us $19.25), and saved us lots of hassle and labor. 

(Note: if the microwave comes crashing down on the stove later, rethink Rule #5).

Well, there you have it: my five resolutions for the future.  As for the current project, I still have to decide whether to raise the doors above the microwave or affix some kind of hardware (such as pull-knobs).  I also need to reposition the upright supports.  This time I’ll drill pilot holes first so as not to bend the shelf unnecessarily.  Completing these last few details will go a long way toward making my project not only look more professional, but more serviceable.  Before, we didn’t use the area above the microwave for anything more than storing the broiler pan we never use in our gas oven.  Hopefully, when I’m finished, I’ll have more storage space above, and use it daily for storing the pans we use most. 

Installing our new over-the-counter microwave may have taken us 210 days, but no doubt saved us several hundred dollars in labor.  We can put that money toward our next vacation.  (Even if, unlike Phileas Fogg in Jules Verne’s classic novel, we only travel halfway around the world). 

Exhausted, but satisfied,

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Terrance Dicks: Don’t Let the Screen Go Dark

Installing a Microwave Oven in 210 Days: Part 1

Our old microwave proved reluctant to leave home.
(I guess it liked us or something).

A few years ago, our over-the-stove microwave packed up.  As we had never gotten around to selling our old countertop model from our previous house, we carried it in from the garage.  The countertop microwave took up a lot of space.  Soon, we vowed, we would replace our old over-the-stove model.

Last November, we headed out to Home Depot on Black Friday.  We were going there to purchase a new dishwasher, as our old one had given up the ghost a few years before the microwave.  Assured by the sales staff that all microwaves were all the same size, we also purchased another over-the-counter model, along with a three-year extended warranty.  We would be leaving the following weekend on travel, and had lots to do before we left.  We set the box containing the microwave on our living room floor, and vowed to install it when we got back.

The following week, we got our dishwasher, but they couldn’t install it, as the company or service responsible for delivering it hadn’t realized they had to hardwire it.  So it was back to Home Depot, when, after several consultations, we were able to arrange for its installation, but only after we returned home in December.  Finally, in the middle of December, the service man hardwired our dishwasher, and we no longer had to wash our dishes by hand anymore.  As Christmas was just around the corner, we were running around like dinosaurs who have just witnessed a massive meteorite impact.  Installing the microwave was consigned to the following year.

In January or February, we tried to remove the old model.  We unscrewed the bolts supporting it from above, but couldn’t get the machine to budge.  Whatever we did, it remained stuck fast, as if Superglued to the wall.  We decided to do some research, and decide how best to tackle this problem later.

In April, I decided to pull the oven out from the wall.  Then I used a wood chisel to chip away the caulking on the wall between the tiles and the microwave.  I also took off the bottom of the old microwave to see if anything else was holding it up, but saw nothing.  So I removed the top bolts again and pulled down on it.  I banged the top of the microwave lightly with a hammer.  I tried to be careful, as I didn’t want the machine to fall down, but I also tried to be forceful, as I really wanted it out of there.  No luck.

Cleaning out the old beast's nest.

I had decided to give up when I changed my mind and gave the machine one last go.  I decided I didn’t care if it fell down and injured me, or damaged the gas line protruding from the wall.  I just wanted it gone.  So I grabbed hold of the microwave and lifted myself completely off the ground.  I bounced up and down, each time with greater force.  Finally, the microwave came loose.  It was a heavy beast, and I needed my wife’s help to lift it off its support frame and carry it out of the kitchen.  Then I measured the new microwave, and the wall space between the cabinets and the tiles. 

All the microwaves that Home Depot sold may have been the same size, but our new one was over an inch taller than its predecessor.  I removed the old metal support frame, and two pieces of plywood that had been used as spacers between the old microwave and the shelf above.  I wasn’t sure if that would leave enough room, but at least it was a start.  Hey, I had only had the new microwave for three-and-a-half months.  What did it matter if it took a little longer?

To be continued,

Dragon Dave

Terrance Dicks: Don’t Let the Screen Go Dark

One journey ends.  Another begins.

Saturday proved an unusual day for me.  It had been a hard week, and my wife and I were feeling, well, “narky.”   Like the collar of a favorite shirt, we were afraid if we did much more, our emotions would start to fray.  So, after breakfast, we abandoned plans to “make Saturday count” and did something we’ve done with decreasing regularity in recent years: we spent most of the day relaxing, and a good portion of it reading. 

This proved a happy and healing process for us.  I finished Foreigner by C. J. Cherryh, a novel I’ve been chipping away at for some time.  My wife finished The Stainless Steel Rat Returns by Harry Harrison.  I also started Time of the Great Freeze by Robert Silverberg, a 1964 novel written for young readers.  (Believe it or not, J. K. Rowling didn’t invent the Young Adult market).  But more on those books later.

In his story “The Great Slow Kings,” Roger Zelazny introduces us to two aliens, Drax and Dran, who plan to build a society around two examples of a lesser species whom their robot Zindrome brings to their planet Glan.  While Drax and Dran reenact their version of the conversation between Socrates and others in Plato’s Republic, these newcomers live life at a frantic pace, and populate Glan.  Lacking direction from the Slow Kings, they build their own societies.  Thus, by their inaction, Drax and Dran become irrelevant.

In “Roger Zelazny is in My Head,” I discussed the battle I wage every day in my writing.  My Slow Kings are named Procrastination and Perfectionism.  Like Zindrome, I’m often caught in the crossfire between these two.  Sometimes I’ve listened to Procrastination, and opted not to write because I “wasn’t in the mood.”  Or I’ve listened to Perfectionism and abandoned promising stories because they “weren’t good enough.”  I may never dethrone my Slow Kings, but each time I complete a new post, I’m publishing a message that may prove meaningful to someone.  Writing this blog comes with a price tag, however.  During the week, I can’t write this blog until I’ve first met my daily target for my novel.  On the weekend, other priorities make themselves known.

After yesterday’s rest, I found myself with no blog post prepared.  So my thoughts returned to Drax and Dran, but they also returned to Terrance Dicks, who worked as the Script Editor for the TV series “Doctor Who” from 1970 to ’75.  In 1977, producer Graham Williams needed a script yesterday.  So, working at a frantic pace, Terrance Dicks created a four-part story called “Horror of Fang Rock.”  On his DVD commentary, Dicks shared this insight: his goal wasn’t to write a great (or perfect) story, it was about not having the TV screens in Britain go dark those four nights.

Terrance Dicks' legacy is well-guarded.

I know most who stumble across The Dragon’s Cache won’t return.  But if I am to make this blog a dependable source of encouragement and inspiration, I must provide something new on a regular basis.  Otherwise, those who look to me for some thoughts to power their day will grow disenchanted, and search out more dependable sources. 

In Roger Zelazny’s story, Drax and Dran contribute nothing to their world.  Certainly Procrastination has never contributed a single thing to mine.  Ironically, the blog posts I thought most perfect often attract little interest, while those that have proven most popular almost always took me by surprise.  This suggests that Perfectionism isn’t a perfect guide either.  (This realization also suggests that when I finish my dragon novel, I should revisit my older manuscripts.  Perhaps Perfectionism judged some of those stories too harshly).

Yes, I need time to work on my novels.  Yes, I need time to relax and recharge.  But now I recognize the truth: Procrastination and Perfectionism’s arguments cannot be trusted.  With my apologizes to the great Roger Zelazny, I must model myself on Terrance Dicks, and do my best to never, ever, let your screen go dark.

Related Dragon Cache entries

Roger Zelazny is in my Head

Related Internet Links

Horror of Fang Rock