Home improvement projects are a lot like radio. When done right, no one notices. Listeners don’t notice a perfect break, tight writing, brisk delivery and precise timing. But everyone hears a mistake: a flubbed pronunciation, missed outcue or awkward pause. Home improvement, like radio, falls under what I call the "curse of perfection." A job well done is invisible.
I’ve seen this truism repeated many times in my on-going kitchen renovation project. I am not a handy man. But I’ve recently learned to hang drywall, install a sink and countertops and wire a dishwasher. I’ve also learned to appreciate people who know the right way to do these things. Again, the way to tell when something is done right is that it doesn’t stand out in any way, unlike the quarter inch mismeasurement I made when ordering the counters.
Believe me, it’s noticeable.
The kitchen make-over began more than a year ago, when my wife decided to remove all of the doors from the cupboards, revealing the visual chaos of kitchen shelves. Her intention was to strip and repaint them for a quick refresh. But after days of struggling to strip the goopy finish off the vintage 1970s cupboards, we opted to start over with all new cabinets.
Easy, right?
It turned out to be as easy as pronouncing Brent Spence Bridge live on the air.
A search through all the retail options left us wondering how to balance what we could afford with the quality we coveted. Then, by chance, I ran into an acquaintance, a skilled craftsman in many disciplines, who said he wanted to learn how to build cabinets from scratch and would be willing to practice on our kitchen. What could go wrong?
Seven months after installing the cabinet bases, he’s still working on the doors and drawer fronts. That’s why this essay only has “before” and no "after" photos. Perfection, in addition to being invisible, takes time.
Every part of the kitchen saga has sub-sagas, story lines that ride waves of indecision, dead ends and distractions. We've had a flooring saga, which ended with terra cotta-style ceramic tile, and a counter-top saga, which after long delays, culminated in beautiful hickory butcher block countertops (shout out to Baird Brothers Fine Hardwoods in Canfield).
By the way, for anyone who may be considering wood countertops, I hardily recommend them if you enjoy hours of rubbing mineral oil into ever-thirsty wooden slabs and anointing them with rice wax and coconut oil. Butcher block countertops are like a new puppy — lots of maintenance, but ultimately worth it.
Another truism I’ve learned is, "The key to solving any task is having the right tool."
Whether you’re a surgeon, plumber, radio host or home-repair amateur, for every task there is a specific and expensive tool that makes it so much easier than the tool you have in your hand. Still, I’ve found that the 100 year-old pliers, screw drivers and rasps inherited from my grandfather were perfect for working on the metal heating ducts and oak window frames in my century home, built in 1919 with similar hand tools. Perhaps the tool and the material are linked throughout the life of the object.
My kitchen renovation has taught me a respect for quality craftsmanship, which by my definition means something you don't notice. For example, look around your home right now. Look at the floor trim and how it fits together at the corners, look at a wooden chair and admire its joinery, note the precision of the crown molding, or even the placement of electrical outlets, stuff you’ve likely never paid much attention to before.
The reason it slipped your notice is that it’s done right. If it was flawed you would have noticed.
I’ll keep seeking undetectable perfection in my ongoing kitchen renovation. (Next steps: wall trim and backsplash tile.)
In the meantime, I’ll be busy trying to fasten local news to national programing, trimming my breaks with local weather reports and seamless radio transitions.
With any luck, you won’t don’t notice the work that goes into it.
