What to say about demolition? It's a skill. At the beginning you are slow getting a blade in the x-acto knife, slow ripping out carpet, slow with the hammer. Then you figure it out. The specifics of the action evolve towards efficiency in your lower back, your arms, your hands. Suddenly it's all taking half the time. When you squat down the backs of your knees are slick with sweat. We're drinking a lot of Corona in here, folks. You can open a beer, easy, with the back of a hammer.

Kia and I cracked the male-labor-speech-code on Sunday afternoon pulling plywood subfloors. “WE ARE JUST YELLING,” we yelled. “EVERYTHING BUT THE CHEST BUMP.” When friends and family get in the house they act as strong and focused as I’ve seen them. With the busy precision of well-trained wait staff in a high-volume restaurant we move around the place aware of each other in space, improvising some choreography of service while we destroy the carpets, the subfloors beneath, and poke the ancient boards saying, “shit.” and “these look soft.” and “but look how beautiful.”