Are you fuckers out of your minds painting historic brick!? Do you realize how offensive this is? It's WORSE than white vinyl siding, it's worse than finger nails on a chalk board and it's way worse than a David Lynch movie!
Brick is of the earth. It resonates with Outside. If you must get stupid with the paint, please paint the interior of your home with these absurd colors. Also know that within a year the exterior paint will start to peel and chip.
Most offensive:
38XX Wyoming.
I was driving along the street when I slammed the brakes in front of this mess. I've spared a detail photo which would reveal the wood trim on the basement windows painted brilliant blue. Take a pulse stopping gander at the hideous Home Depot front door. To relieve the horror of viewing this crapola, glaze to the right at the beautiful brick arch above the entry way.
One of the few carriage houses in Tower Grove South that some jerk painted a puke green.
Sure, paint the massive brick building.
Click on this image to enlarge it - peeling paint!
Presenting a collection of St. Louis bricks, sidewalk markers, and the Fleur-de-lis as architectural detail on and in city buildings, brick collecting, urban exploration, and my life by Christian Herman. Reporting from Tower Grove South in St. Louis, MO
Showing posts with label Hoosier Rehabbing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hoosier Rehabbing. Show all posts
7/27/07
5/31/07
HOOSIER REHABBING - TGS
Hoosier Rehabbing
If you look at the first post on this blog you will see the front porch of my childhood home here in TGS. Here it is again, how it looked as of two years ago.
( The bricklaying bond on the face of the porch is called Stretcher.)
The address numbers were framed behind the beveled glass above the mail box and original to the house. The front porch used to have a wood swing where I reclined and read The Post as a teenager. It was also a great hiding place while playing hide and seek. A perfect view of the whole block, the portal to the Outside. Incredible face brick!
A shrine to my childhood. 3964 McDonald Avenue. Home!
Recently a rash of hoosier contractors have bought homes in the neighborhood including my old house. I noticed the tell tale rehabbing dumpster out front one day so I introduced myself to the dipshit idiot who is rehabbing my old house and asked for a tour.
I braced myself as we walked in. The walls remain and the addition my Dad added is there. The basement was stripped of everything my parents built down there in the 60's (outdated, I was told by the 'rehabber'). I gasped. The framed walls, the built-in closets and desks were all gone. It was a bare basement.
He had pulled out the grape vines (my dad made wine), removed the three fruit trees (we canned) and yanked out my mom's iris in the back yard.
The worst was the stupidly placed new address plaque and, what I call, hoosier wrapping (this is a new fad in rehabbing, covering rotting wood with metal instead of scraping and repainting or even replacing wood).
New address plaque:
I commented that the metal seams hadn't been caulked which of course will lead to a larger problem for the new home owner.
And what's up with this inane black ornament above the porch?
If you look at the first post on this blog you will see the front porch of my childhood home here in TGS. Here it is again, how it looked as of two years ago.
( The bricklaying bond on the face of the porch is called Stretcher.)
The address numbers were framed behind the beveled glass above the mail box and original to the house. The front porch used to have a wood swing where I reclined and read The Post as a teenager. It was also a great hiding place while playing hide and seek. A perfect view of the whole block, the portal to the Outside. Incredible face brick!
A shrine to my childhood. 3964 McDonald Avenue. Home!
Recently a rash of hoosier contractors have bought homes in the neighborhood including my old house. I noticed the tell tale rehabbing dumpster out front one day so I introduced myself to the dipshit idiot who is rehabbing my old house and asked for a tour.
I braced myself as we walked in. The walls remain and the addition my Dad added is there. The basement was stripped of everything my parents built down there in the 60's (outdated, I was told by the 'rehabber'). I gasped. The framed walls, the built-in closets and desks were all gone. It was a bare basement.
He had pulled out the grape vines (my dad made wine), removed the three fruit trees (we canned) and yanked out my mom's iris in the back yard.
The worst was the stupidly placed new address plaque and, what I call, hoosier wrapping (this is a new fad in rehabbing, covering rotting wood with metal instead of scraping and repainting or even replacing wood).
New address plaque:
I commented that the metal seams hadn't been caulked which of course will lead to a larger problem for the new home owner.
And what's up with this inane black ornament above the porch?
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