Today class, we shall consider the concept of time. What is time? Can time be slowed down or speeded up? Many mysteries will be revealed by Mr. Science in this particular stain on world literature. Stay tuned for the time and space continuum.

Depending on circumstances, time can indeed be stretched out or compressed. The old saying is “Time flies when you are having fun.” The converse is also true, time drags when you are not having fun. Yin and Yang. Light and Dark. Allow me to explain.

For many years I thought that the longest period of time I had experienced occurred in the late 1970s. In a very hot August, my wife and I drove round trip from Fayetteville, North Carolina to Key West, Florida, in a Chevy Vega station wagon.

Like Tipperary, it is a long, long way from Fayetteville to Key West. It is even longer in a Chevy Vega station wagon. For those of you too young to have experienced Chevy Vegas or too old to be able to remember Chevy Vegas, some background information may be needed.

Vegas were some of the worst cars ever produced by Detroit. They were small, loud, uncomfortable and actually rusted sitting in Chevy show rooms. Naturally we bought one because that is the kind of car dummies we were.

Our two-year-old Vega was a classic. The roof had already rusted leaving holes for rain water to run inside the car to collect in the wheel well where the spare tire lived. The water filled up the wheel well causing the spare tire to float like a large black rubber ball of bilious Ivory soap. When the car would make a turn, the spare would slosh and loudly bump against the side of the wheel well. When brakes were applied, the wheel would slosh and ram the wheel well.

Vegas had very little acceleration. When the gas pedal was depressed the spare would remain quietly stable. The best part of the Vega experience was the exquisite smell of the spare marinating in brackish water redolent of rotting vegetation in the Great Dismal Swamp on a hot day after an oil spill.
Imagine the fun of traveling 18 hours in a Vega to the end of the Sunshine State. We enjoyed multiple hours of interstate time, broken only by stopping at the occasional Stuckey’s for a pecan log and road trinkets.

For decades I believed this was the longest period of any experience I had encountered. It turns out I was wrong. There is a slower period of time, even slower than Vega time. It is called Home Renovation Time.
In the early 1980s while we were in our early 30s, we bought a house. It was a two-story house with the bedroom and bathroom on the second floor. When we bought the house, it never occurred to us that 40 years later we would be in our early 70s.

Stairs are not currently an issue. But as Mr. Calendar marches on, it is inevitable the stairs will morph into mountains as we age.
What to do? Kids are grown. Don’t need all this space. Most normal people enter their fourth quarter by downsizing. We scoff at conventional wisdom. Remember, we once owned a Vega. Let’s add more space.

We decided to enter the wonderful world of home renovation by adding a bedroom and bathroom to the first floor.
Construction began in March 2022, and finished in January 2023. Almost 11 months of rollicking fun times.

Construction requires many decisions, large amounts of money, and a tolerance for chaos.
All important decisions were made by my wife, thus granting me complete deniability. Delays are inevitable. Just say the magic words “Supply Chain Problem” and any delay is excused.

Find an architect, a contractor, brick masons, carpenters, HVAC gurus, electricians, matching bricks, and appropriate fixtures, while learning to live in a black hole of compressed personal effects.
All of the furniture in several rooms had to be jammed into remaining space. Objects piled up everywhere. Not even light could escape. It looked like the “Hoarders” TV show.

A beautiful blue Porta John graced the front yard to the neighbors’ delight while serving as a haven for joggers struck by an urgent call of nature. The sweet smell of Porta John in the depths of summer wafted through the neighborhood.

Giant trucks roamed the narrow street carrying magnificent mounds of bricks and boards. Skip loaders filled with cement crushed the grass and sprinkler system into oblivion. Mud abounded.

Teams of workers wandered through the house at random periods. Each step in the process brought an exciting new fresh Hell.

So, what have we learned today? Renovation Time is slower than Vega Time. The end result of renovation was dandy. As usual, my wife was right. Let the aging begin in earnest. We have built our own nursing home to remain in place as long as possible.

But, if I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t do it. I would rent a Vega, drive to California, and never come back.