Meet me in St Louis, Louis
Meet me at the Fair
Don’t tell me the lights are shining
Anyplace but there
-Sterling/Mills
By Randall Grantham
Hello, my name is Randy and I am a brickoholic. That was my mantra before, but now, I’m clean!
That’s right, after years of gathering, stacking and laying out brick walkways, pads and parking areas, I am cured of my brick obsession.
As you know, I had a serious brick problem and, I admit I was addicted to bricks. I started, as most casual users do, with pavers. Old school popcorn rock pavers. A few here, a few there. Next thing I knew, I was sneaking off with bricks found anywhere.
It got so bad that, like many substance abusers, I got in trouble with the law. Code Enforcement cited me for not being quick enough in cleaning up the piles of Ybor City bricks that had been dumped in front of my house and that I had commenced to clean and stack this summer.
I have brick walkways all the way around my house and out to both main gates. I have a brick floor on my outdoor shower. I have a brick stoop on my work-room building. I had a brick problem.
In my last post about this subject, I said my “brick problem” was that I didn’t have enough bricks. Well, after this last load of bricks, I think that I have enough. By my count, I have more than 5,000 bricks cleaned, stacked and ready for deployment.
Does that prove that I’m cured? No. But the fact that I walked right past 20 or 30 Tampa street bricks, stacked unsecured on the side of the street in downtown Tampa, not once, not twice but three times without even picking one up and carrying it back to my car, or even seriously considering it, does.
But I did not escape from this culture unscathed. As is true in any addiction scenario, there are the unavoidable medical issues.
You’ve heard of tennis elbow and carpal tunnel syndrome? Well, I developed brick-cleaner’s shoulder. A version of tendonitis that hurts like hell and has prevented me from paving over my entire yard with the bricks I’ve acquired.
But seriously, I think that I have enough bricks and I am thankful that my addiction did not get out of hand and hurt anybody else.
I’m also grateful to learn that I am not alone in my struggle. I recently read that somebody in St Louis, Mo., also has a brick problem. However, they’ve let theirs get to the point where they are burning down buildings just to get to the “special” St. Louis bricks.
You see, after the fire of 1849, the city required that all new buildings be built from non-combustible materials and dozens of brick manufacturers sprung up using the rich clays of Missouri.
According to those who should know, they are highly desirable due to their quality and craftsmanship. So people are setting fire to vacant buildings and having the fire department do all the mortar cleaning with their high-powered hoses.
One guy that was caught loading up bricks swore that he had only been messing with bricks for a week and now that he had been caught he was gonna get off the stuff.
Sure he is. But that’s how quickly this addiction can get you. We’ll see if he stays clean.
As for me, I take it one day at a time. And maybe I’ll take my next vacation in St. Louis.
