New Sheetrock

Day two of the Sheetrock project is almost done. Day one consisted of Jose delivering 1 1/2 piece of Sheetrock with damaged corners. Day two he delivered the last sheet. My aged husband carried it up the stairs noting that jobs like this make it clear that he no longer has the strength of a young man. He used to be able to carry a lot more at once, but this time he had to cut the Sheetrock in half and make two trips. According to him, ex-construction worker and painter, the absolute worst job ever is carrying Sheetrock. I think I mentioned this before, but will repeat it again, because if I have to keep hearing it, so do you.  

Who Works on Weekends?

Nobody, unless you are making a ton of noise to disturb he entire block, and then your construction projects are 24/7. Except Jose, he's around today. Really his only problem is saying he will show up and then not telling you he can't come. Otherwise, so far, not bad.

Jose promised to bring the Sheetrock this morning but when we called he said he went over to the site where he was going to get it from (this is the advantage of a landlord with construction projects all over the hood including a massive new 7-11, you can pinch their stuff) and it turns out they don't have any, so he can't get it until Monday. 

His young, buff assistant brought up 2 drums of joint compound and tape, one drum at a time. The Husband was not impressed recalling his time when he could carry 2 drums up the stairs at once. But apparently the worst hell on earth is carrying Sheetrock. Plus we'll get linen white paint. Not sure yet what we'll use to paint the floor. Jose offered us ceramic tile for it, but I don't think so.

In other news, our neighbor without a fridge was promised one "from the basement." This Jose is totally old school. He's personally very nice and smart and knows the tricks to avoid having to go through management, but every super we've had has been great the first few weeks until the bastards wear them down into a pulpy mess. Perhaps Jose's Buddhism will keep him on track. He also looks like Buddha. A Dominican Buddha.

On another positive note, it's been cool so The Smell hasn't appeared yet today. As it warms up this weekend we'll know if the foam bubbles have had any impact.

This is where we are with the wall. And the rest of our house crammed with all our crap taken out of this room. Amazing how much you can cram into such a small space.

What Makes a Slum Lord?

So The Husband finished everything he could do yesterday with the foam bubbles, patching the wall, letting it all dry. This morning, Jose was supposed to come back with the materials to cover the wall -- ie sheetrock, tape, some other stuff I don't know what it is. He never showed, never returned any calls. You might know why. Because "I have 13 buildings and they all have problems."

So I do feel bad for Jose (who is a Buddhist by the way). This is a horrible job where everybody is yelling at you because these 100 year old buildings are falling apart. Boilers breaking, rats swimming in puddles, refrigerators broken in 90 degree heat, who knows what else.

It's not his fault, it's the fault of the owners - and now we come to the point of why I started this blog - Jared Kushner and his Posse, who are quickly earning the title of Slum Lords by the way they are managing these buildings. One super for 13 buildings? Slum Lord. Don't answer the phones? Slum Lord. Make promises that you have no intention to keep? Slum Lord. Rats in the garbage? Slum Lord (ok maybe even regular landlord buildings have rats in New York, I admit to that). No electricity for 3 weeks (my neighbor)? Slum Lord. Refrigerator broken (I know of two in Westminster buildings right now that aren't replaced)? Slum Lord.

And this list is only what I know. There are more problems out there, I'm confident of it.

What is in the walls?

Every time we go into the wall we find something interesting. Here is what we found a few years ago when they renovated the apartment downstairs. And here is what came from my kitchen wall. And this also.

Now from the bedroom we have footwear. Men's socks and what appears to be a piece of hosiery that is very thin, but quite strong, not easy to photograph, it's shy.

Bubbles

So here is what Jose can do. He can show up (I emphasize how important that is), come to the apartment and look at stuff. He can also being construction supplies. What can he not do? Actually work on the job. Why not, you might ask, thoughtfully. Jose's answer is "because I am the super for 13 buildings and don't have time."

So The Husband spent all day stuffing some foam substance between the baseboards and the floor. if he had a job, we would have no hope. He seems ok with doing all the work, perhaps because he has  forgotten his promise to paint the kitchen this summer. I am not so ok. In fact I think it sucks balls.

The good news is this room will get painted for the first time since 1982 and it will be the first time a landlord has ever supplied paint. (Note that this room is mostly a closet underneath a loft bed).

Here are some photos of the stinkin wall, with a close up of the foam, for your amusement.

Jose is a Real Person

Jose showed up this morning, as promised. He agreed to do some sort of construction to seal the wall and the baseboards. Not sure about the floor. This is tricky because our loft bed is directly on the wall, so how this is going to pan out is unclear. Will we lose our 30 year old bed, built by Mark himself, RIP. Tonight we clear out the room to get ready.  Another week at least of living with our stuff piled up, a depressing reminder of how close to hoarders we might be, deep down.

On another note, the Department of Health & Mental Hygiene are coming next week to examine The Smell. This is to get The Smell on the record in case none of the construction works out, and we come to a standstill over what to do next. Or, it will be for naught. Hoepfully, the latter.

Right now, things appear to be moving along and I can't complain. My fears are not being realized ... yet. Feeling positive for now, as Jose was pretty gung ho about making this happen.

I can hear my inner voice, talking into the camera in the closet like a reality show. Not sure if this blog makes any sense at all. I feel a little stupid. Stupider than usual? I also wish there was a way to take a photo of odors. 3D printer my ass, we need an Odor Printer.

Jose? Are You There?

So today I realize how long it takes to get a case through housing court. I compose and certify mail the letter to Jared to document that he has been informed about The Smell and a possible remedy. I cite the Warranty of Habitability and cc local officials who I think have the Kushner empire on their radar. I also try to call back the Dept of Health who has followed up on my 311 call, but after leaving 4 messages, still nothing from them. I'm wondering if there is only one call back to a 311 complaint and now I have to refile to get a human? Not sure.

By the end of the day, I've had no chance to follow up about Jose because it was a crazy, busy work day. The Husband has not done anything about this either, for no apparent reason other than causing us to have another fight about this. But Jared is still in the office when I return this evening. Ha ha, he works right here, he can't really avoid me, can he.

I go inside, and he greets me in a very friendly way. He asks how I am and tell him, "Bad, I'm smoked out of my bedroom and your guy never showed." He was a little surprised by my new change of attitude. Had Jose shown up I think I would have been less pissed off.

"What guy?" he asks.

"Your guy, Jose."

He nods and calls Jose, makes an appointment for 9am tomorrow. Also informs me that Jose is now our super. The super who came to "look" at the smell has vanished over the past few minutes it seems and has been replaced. Unless it was Jose who came to "look" at the smell and we didn't know it. I can't actually remember what the last super looked like, he was like a ghost. If that was Jose, then we are in for some fun.

Jose

Lets now meet Jose. Or not. Because Jose doesn't show up. Jared, the landlord's guy, has changed his mind from sending a plumber to sending Jose, now that The Smell has a source and a possible solution of sealing the room. Jose is a contractor. Three times today the promise of Jose is presented but the reality is a sham.

Will Plastic Help?

The short answer is "no," plastic won't help. But we tried anyway. We taped a plastic painting tarp over the baseboards, which are the closest inside point to the roofing tar on the other side of this wall, to see if that would be sufficient to block The Smell. It didn't work. Back to square one, an identified smell, but no solution as to how to make it stop.

It's The Roof, The Roof, The Roof

So now it's Saturday and The Smell persists. It's a million degrees outside, a horrible heat wave, and still we haven't been able to sleep in our bedroom, too afraid to shut the window and too afraid to put back in the air conditioner in case an inspector of some sort comes and wants to take it out.

But first, there is the patch test results. One by one we peel off the patches, and The Husband brings them to me to sniff, in another room, with my clean nostril palate. They all smell like musty room... until voila, one of them has The Smell. It's the one on the western wall, where there is nothing but brick on the other side. It tells me nothing, but now I am laser focused on that wall.

Back to the roof. We lean over and try to peer down the wall. We consider the long jump, one floor down to the roof of the building next door. Then I notice that the corner building, the one with a restaurant in the ground floor, also provides access to the roof between us. And I know the restaurant owner. He will surely bring us up to his roof. So off we go.

And, as luck would have it, just as we go by the neighboring building that we are trying to get to, someone with cleaning supplies exits. The Husband stops him and asks if he's the super. No, but the super is right there, on the stoop, where is always is.

And then we get the answer. We ask the super if we can look at his roof. He says, "sure, and we just did a whole bunch of work up there last week." Last week! That's exactly it. What has changed in the last week? The neighboring roof has changed. Up we go.

And there it is, the outside wall to our bedroom, slathered in roofing tar. You know that black tar that never seems to dry? That smells really bad, that smells like The Smell? It has been applied to the wall to seal cracks between the two buildings. Our 109 year old brick wall that is full of cracks and holes, guarded only by who knows how old cracked plaster, broken baseboards and 109 year old wooden floors that you can look though to see into the apartment below (before they put in the insulation).

Mystery solved.

What Will the Landlord Do?

The super is no help. The patch tests are hard at work. What's next?

This is where the landlord enters, our very brand new management company called Westminster, owned by Mr. Ivanka Trump, Jared Kushner himself. Well, he's not the guy sitting in the office renting 400 square foot apartments for $4000, but he's in charge, somewhere, somehow. And their office is conveniently located just downstairs from The Smell. Downstairs we go, and upstairs we come with our guy, the one we will be watching closely here, to see if this blog has a good or bad outcome. Jordan is our guy and he's going to fix it all.

He sniffs and smells and thinks it smells like mothballs. This is a new description, one we hadn't hit upon. Mothballs. We have no mothballs. We have a lot of cedar things in our drawers and closets, but no mothballs. Could mothballs have secretly been planted somewhere? Jared leaves and asks us to keep him updated on the patch tests, of which he is skeptical. So am I, but I don't tell him that.

He leaves, promising that on Monday he'll call a plumber, since that seems to be the best expert he can think of. I don't tell him that there are no pipes anywhere nearby, so how is a plumber going to help, but I figure we'll ride this one out and see.

Tracking The Smell

We are now out of options. The room is empty, and my living room and kitchen are chock full of our hidden lives. Shoes are every where. Boots are blocking the door. The laundry is in front of the stove. It is 100 degrees out and The Smell is worse than ever. Our neighbor declares it smells like insecticide and claims she saved us $750 and don't have to hire the expensive men with smell machines.

Google, my friend, is not helping identify The Smell. It could be anything. But I see that a lot of people have trouble with smoking related smells. And cat urine.

Then I hit the jackpot. This site gives very clear instructions on how to track an odor using things we already have: tin foil, paper towels and blue painter's tape. We put 11 patches on the floors, ceiling, walls, baseboards, shut the room and wait 24 hours.

In the meantime, it's Friday of a holiday weekend, and we finally got the super to come in. He sniffed and said, "what am I supposed to do about that?" and departed.

Can a Guru Help?

How many times can a person look at a roof? Like a hungry puppy, I got on my hands and knees and sniffed all around the roof, above the bedroom. No smell.

Then I realized I need an expert. As the loyal and faithful NPR listener that I am, I remembered The Gurus of How To. I sent an email describing my predicament, and within the hour, Al Ubell was on my phone. He asked all the questions we'd asked ourselves - primarily - what has changed in the last week? I reviewed all the answers with him in excruciating detail. Without knowing how to properly describe The Smell, he wasn't much help. Did you know that turpentine and shoe polish are not even close to each other as smells? Did you know that Al Ubell was a smell expert in the Navy? Did you know that it costs $750 to get a smell expert to come into your home to test, analyze and identify a smell? Did you also know that in Mr. Ubell's long experience (he's the father by the way), the only time one of those expensive experts are hired is under court order?

I hang up and we contemplate $750.

And still The Smell, unidentified and mysterious as ever, persists.

What is lurking?

I've been sniffing around the bedroom so much I have a headache. And a burning in my eyes and throat. The Smell is awful. It peaks during the evening, is strong through the night, starts diminishing in the morning, is almost gone by the afternoon, and starts again. It has a pattern, but seems also inconsistent at the same time.

I stand in the bedroom, which is stuffed with 109 years of crap. I realize that if we call anybody in to look at it they will blame our stuff. There is a lot of stuff, any of it could be making a Smell. So I made a decision -- we will start experimenting my emptying things out of the room and see if The Smell changes shape.

First to come out are the art supplies which seem like the most likely of culprits. Spray paint, acrylic paint, paint brushes, sculpey clay, a trunk full of who knows what kind of crap, all into the living room and kitchen, but not before sniffing each box first. Nothing. The Smell persists.

Next to come out is the trunk full of clothes, the laundry, the shelves of whatnot and the filing cabinet from my childhood. The Smell persists.

Now it is 2am. I realize that the one thing that changed in the last week was the air conditioner. While I was away on a trip, The Husband repositioned it so it wouldn't make a bad sound. It was now very quiet, but, I was convinced, the source of the The Smell. Something must have broken and freon is leaking all over the place. So, out comes the air conditioner. And still, The Smell persists.

We are now sleeping in our son's room, and he is pretty much on his own to find a place to sleep that has a mattress and air conditioning, because it is over 95 every single day.

The Tale Begins with Mystery Neighbors

Last week my bedroom started to smell. Smells are hard to communicate and harder to describe. This one is chemical--turpentine, mineral spirits, toxic, strong. My bedroom became uninhabitable.

Mt bedroom is on the top floor. Of the 6 walls we have: ceiling shared with building roof; floor shared with downstairs neighbors we've never seen; north wall has a window; east wall has the door to the living room; south wall shared with my other bedroom; west wall is brick and has nothing on the other side of it (we are a story higher than the building to the west).

At first we thought The Smell was coming from the tenant downstairs who we've never seen. On a Friday night we knocked, no answer. Left a note, no answer. His light was on, knocked again, no answer. Left a second note, no answer. Went to the tenants below him, they experienced no smell and also never saw the mystery tenant.

Who is this guy? Called his neighbor across the hall who told me two young men live there. Famous fashion photographer parents and leading actor brother. Therefore they must not be cooking meth. 

Finally on Sunday night a knock on the door. A nice young man, as described, said he has no smell and isn't painting or spilling chemicals on his ceiling. 

First clue, no clue, The Smell persists.