I had itchy fingers today, or was it the mouse that was itchy? Philosophy R Us. Either way, I was poised at my workstation to order a new stove, an electric freestanding range. But then (a) I realized my ancient Magic Chef, avocado, is a lot wider than 30 inches and (b) the burner I’d convinced myself would not turn off, became cool to the touch. My hypothesis had been invalidated.
My stove seems to be 36 inches wide, in an even wider space. OK, now I’m seeing some 36ers are out there and they’re not cheap (not inexpensive, and one would hope of high quality), not the ones I just browsed. “Cheap” is one of those overdetermined words in English. One can be cheap to a fault.
I don’t think I’m cheap in keeping my vintage kitchen as it was, so long as it remains functional enough to meet my average needs. The chrome (I should say stainless steel) countertop (on both sides) sets the tone, whereas the pastel vinyl wall panels cast the spell of a 1950s diner. In the driveway: a car with fins (just kidding, but she is shinier since the wash).
The folks who occupied this abode before we did had different tastes, but I’ll say this: they made some high quality purchases. I’m still using the original furnace, garbage disposal and stove. The fridge, washer and dryer have long since been replaced. I’m happy to get by on such hand me downs. These are goodies we paid for when buying the place in the mid 1990s.
Back in my Jersey City days, I was brainstorming what I called The Housing Project, mirroring the Hunger Project. Essentially AirBnb and/or timeshare but different. More like club housing, if you know what that is (I don’t, but I’m thinking it up here). You join this club with places to stay all over, and you book access to these places. Maybe you need to be invited by the club I don’t know.
These days, I’m more into helping colleges and universities build out the group home idea, such as I enjoyed at 2D (2 Dickinson Street, Princeton) and later in Jersey City (we perpetuated the model). If only my Jersey City home had been faculty housing for St. Peter’s College faculty, I might still be there, ya never know. Or maybe I’d be with NJIT, or both. Housing would be owned by universities and students and faculty and admin would get their spaces.
When I say admin I don’t mean to distinguish from janitorial, as I regard these as two sides of the same coin. What admin does includes physical property management, not just making sure people get fed and sheltered.
By the way, I’m not claiming I was ever on St. Peter’s College faculty and would have stayed if provided with campus housing. I was taking grad school level courses there when I was offered the position at St. Dominic Academy. Both institutions were along Kennedy Boulevard. I was new in town, knew I wanted to try high school teaching, and here was how it worked out. I’ve told this story in more detail elsewhere and it wasn’t idyllic (the need for a new teacher at high school in the first place was tragic).
These days I’d probably look at Earlham or, closer, Reed, for admin, making Blue House a hub in several programs, including Food Not Bombs coordination (just like old times). Students and faculty would come and go in various scenarios. The kitchen could stay vintage. Superfluous remodeling should take a back seat to the deep changes we’ll be making at the curriculum level.
If the stove had some kind of circuit fault keeping a burner on no matter what (I had that happen to a taillight on my car), my friend and neighbor Patrick is the kind of guy who could probably diagnose and fix the wiring fault. Les too but he’s far away. However this appliance has been on the chopping block so to speak for over a decade, with my mom always offering to get us a new one. But why? It works great. I just replaced one of the heating elements, and got three burners working out of four. The stove cooks pizza.
