Last Days of Disco, or It's Lights Out for These Switches

Ted was so sweet to put this home improvement project at the top of his list, because he knew how much I hated this funky seventies style gold and ivory toggle light switch inside our front door. (Love the music of the era, hate a lot of the home style--shag rugs that you needed a rug rake for? Shudder.)

He installed a nifty retro push button switch with faux mother-of-pearl buttons and a Craftsman style switch plate, which I found at House of Antique Hardware. I know, I know; they're a bit pricey, but this is the light switch in the entryway, one of the first things people see when they walk in, and I wanted to splurge a bit on something nifty. It's based on a vintage pattern.

We were pleased to see that the wires in this wall had been updated at some point. This switch controls the nipple light in the stairwell, itself an add on of later date, so it's possible there never was a switch here prior to the installation of the light. The other two lights for the stairs are controlled by switches inside each of the units. I suspect these may be the only upgraded wires we find!

Eventually, we'll replace all the switches in our unit of The Box House with push-button ones. I love the very satisfying "click" they make when you push the little button.

Speaking of the last days of disco, does anyone remember when Chicago radio DJ Steve Dahl had his Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey Park? I was ten at the time, too little to realize that Kool and the Gang's "Ladies' Night" really wasn't all that cool, no matter how well I could skate to it at the local rink with my feathered roach clip in my feathered hair and my glittery unicorn t-shirt.

Here's what the Chicago Tribune had to say about it:

Dahl, who had been fired from WDAI-FM when that station switched to an all-disco format, had garnered national recognition for his crusade against what he called "Disco Dystrophy." Comiskey was filled to capacity; the official attendance was more than 59,000. An estimated 15,000 fans milled outside the park. After the first game, which the Sox lost 4-1, Dahl ceremoniously blew up a crate filled with disco records. All was orderly up to that point. But as Dahl finished, thousands of fans stormed onto the field, tearing up clumps of sod, burning signs, knocking over a batting cage and flinging records like so many Frisbees. Police arrested 37 people; by the time order was restored, the grounds were little more than a grassy moonscape. The second game was canceled and later awarded to the Tigers by forfeit.

Keep on truckin', people!

Tweaking the Nipple Light and a Bit of Chicago Architectural History

I don't know if it's an industry standard term, but I first heard these blah and boring lights referred to as nipple lights by a contractor five or six years ago; the name stuck, and I've called them nipple lights ever since. They're absolutely awful, and we have one in our front entry stairwell, although its days are numbered.


The Box House stairwell is dimly lit. Despite the fact that the front door has a small glass window--complete with bullet hole, I noticed the other day--and a larger window on the second level, there is not a whole heck of a lot of natural light.

In front of the doorway to each unit is an incredibly fun and funky vintage light fixture, which I'm going to deem as 1920s or 1930s Spanish Revival. They're the very first things I fell in love with when stepping inside The Box House. The lights and the original gray-and-red tile in the entry had me at hello. Unfortunately, the lights don't cast much actual light.

The light in front of the door on the second-floor unit.

A somewhat better view of the lights; this is in front of the door of the first floor unit.


Our entryway tile. The chiminea we picked up in Antigua, Guatemala, and somehow carried him all the way back to Chicago without breaking. The Indian head comes from the original facade of the Merchandise Mart in downtown Chicago. There were once fifty six terra cotta American Indian chiefs that circled the center tower of the Mart; they were three and a half feet wide and seven feet tall. Unfortunately, they were all removed and, according to the Merchandise Mart history page, destroyed in 1961 to put up clean-looking and modern concrete plates. We found "Chief" at an estate sale; the woman's father had been involved in the demolition of the terra cotta facade, and managed to save this piece.


Chief's original home.

The P.O.s must have felt the same way we did, that there wasn't enough light, because next to the beautiful lamp on the lower level is this brightly glowing nipple light. It does give off more light than the Spanish Revival fixtures, but it also detracts from the overall vintage character of the entryway. We found a matching one in the basement, still in its box, which leads me to believe it was purchased and installed recently. I don't know yet if it was to replace another fixture or if new wire was strung through to install it; we'll know when we take it out. Is it me, or does it just look awkward? Or maybe I have a bias against nipple lights to start with?

New and old.

I agree with the P.O.s that the stairwell does need more light. Although replacing the nipple light is hardly a priority, I found one I liked at Lighting Universe. Its twisty iron look complements the fixtures already in place, and look--it's completely flat without any weird nipple-ly things clinging to it. With a mere six-inch profile, Ted won't hit it as he goes upstairs. I ordered it today and it should be on its way!

Floor Sanding Options

Today we had a couple of flooring contractors come to the Box House to give us estimates on what it would cost to sand and refinish the floors in both units, as well as the front entry stairwell.

The floors in the main rooms of the top unit (living room, dining room, entryway) were recently "done," but I'm not sure if it was a "professional" or one of the Previous Owner's family members. In any case, he or she didn't bother going under or behind the radiators. The wood there is quite dark, while the rest of the area appears to have only a thin coat of varnish over bare wood. (The stairs are the same way. They have pools of darker stain in the corners, but the rest of the tread is quite light.) The three bedrooms upstairs are covered in ancient carpet.

Living Room of the Top Floor Unit. Sure, it may look good at a quick glance, but what you don't see is how the floor's only protected with a very thin layer of varnish. We also want to get it back to the original color, which is a little darker.

In the downstairs unit, the floors hadn't been sanded at all. Most of the floor downstairs is in decent shape--certainly better than many of the rental units I lived at in my younger days--but there are several boards that will have to be removed and replaced due to previous damage. Boards near a radiator in the bedroom off the kitchen appear to have water damage, and there are holes in the floor of the dining room. There's also a large dark stain we believe to be cat urine, but from what the contractors told us and what I've read on other house blogs, we may be stuck with that unless we replace those boards, too.

Both contractors who stopped by had been recommended by our buyer's agent. J.E. had previously recommended a mortgage broker and a lawyer who we were very pleased with, so we're willing to start with his recommendations here.

The first guy gave us an excellent price, one we can certainly live with, and even said he'd rip out and haul away the gawd-awful carpeting and replace the damaged boards for free. His quote included two layers of varnish; if we wanted more, it would cost more. But even then, it seemed a good price. However, there is a major language barrier and he was only here about 10 minutes or so. I'm not entirely convinced he really saw the full scope of the project, and I'm not entirely sure what we'd be getting. For example, it was difficult to convey that we wanted the floors to be a color complimentary to the rest of the trim.

The second contractor was here for 45 minutes, and she went over every room in detail, discussing which boards should be replaced, measuring everything with her tape measurer, giving us a bit of history of old floors. (The most interesting thing I learned is that they are no longer able to get wood flooring at the same length as was commonly installed 80 years ago. One of the floorboards that needs to be replaced is over 15 feet long; they'll cut only the bad section out at a length that can blend in easily, but leave the rest in place.) She's to send us a full proposal by Monday. My gut tells me it won't be as good as the other, probably nowhere near as good. She's talking about having two crews out here for upwards of two weeks. I'm sure the floors will look spectacular, but will we be able to afford it?

There's always the option of doing it piecemeal, one unit at a time as we can afford it, but right now we have all of our stuff in the basement, and it would be easy to work on the floors. The other option is to do it ourselves. *Shudder*