A Piece of Liquor License Ephemora ON THE HOUSE!

Apparently, you can serve booze in Missouri without a Sunday License if New Year Eve, St. Patty's day or Superbowl Sunday should fall on a Sunday (note, superbowl sunday usually falls on a Sunday).

Liquor License

I don't know if this is the Quixote in me but, I'm excited to finally be going through the process of getting a liquor license. It's a fairly serpenting series of steps which are set up with the interests of the neighborhood in mind. I went on down to city hall last week and gave the (extremely) nice woman about 17 pieces of paper, my photo ID, a thumbprint and some money and in exchange I recieved a printout of owners, businesses and tenants in a 350 food radius. She also gave me postcards which I would have to fill out by hand and then give back to her stamped. I ask you, when was the last time you hand wrote anything? I felt I was going to have to put my whole left arm in an epsom salt bath.

I gave back the postcards and if all goes well, I'll come back on Wednesday and get my petition form. In St. Louis, you have to have a majority of neighbors sign your petition for a liquor license. If a majority doesn't sign well....but hey, who doesn't like a little wine?

Rafter Mystery Explained

The ceiling came down and the joists were exposed. Big, huge, suckers, each one only a foot apart from another, a great example of old school overengineering. The question was, why is there white stuff on them?


At first, we thought they might be calcium deposits from old leaks, but they're way too uniform and they begin and end at very clear points.


It wasn't until Laclede Gas came out (formerly The Lacled Gaslight Company) to talk about changing our service around that we got a clue. I showed him the ceiling and in turn he showed me a copy of the original service request for the building from 1936 to The Diana Bakery Company. The front of the building was retail, and the rear was the bakery and the white stuff on the joists is 75 YEAR OLD FREAKING FLOUR!

We Could Stop Right Now And Have A Great Looking Squat

Not satisfied to stretch out the agonizing process, Nate and Nick thwacked out the rest of the ceiling over the weekend with their fancy raised scissor lift. I was tempted to stage my own "Inconvenient Truth" moment but I feel I've put just too much rank dorkiness on this site as it is. The joists are in good shape overall, which is a relief. We found a mysterious square opening in the wine bar ceiling that had been patched closed years ago and reinforced. It might have been an old chimney opening when the space was three separate retail spaces, but I'd prefer to imagine it as a closed up firehouse pole or an old trap door for a rum running operation.

More Carnage

Yesterday, Nate and Nick started the demo of the ceiling of the Peace Printing office. Greg was out for the day so Julie and I sat in the office while the demo started on the other side of the wall. The sound of the hammering and the plaster hitting the concrete 13 feet below echoed off of the walls of the empty space. It sounded like they were beating a confession out of the building.

It looks like he crawled out of a mine shaft before he asked me to check his e-mail.


That was yesterday. Today, they were dressed to handle uranium, kidnap ET and after lunch get rid of some bodies.

I Have No Superlatives For Our Dumpster

Progress today was not very photogenic. Nick and Nate prepped the space for destruction and took down bits of conduit, bric a brac and pondered mysterious, semi-structural beams that run parallel to the joists. I for one shuffled papers around, wrapped my noggin around money stuff and generally froze my butt off since I have the coldest seat in temporary office.

But hey, the dumpster came.

Destruction Awaits

Nick and Nathan made short work of the rest of the office. I helped demolish the hung ceiling, which was extremely antisocial but very satisfying. I asked that the carptet be destroyed in my absens. In the twenty years that it's been down, it's been cleaned exactly zero times, so it's anybody's guess how dead the dead rat was that fell on Nick's neck as he picked up the carpet and got ready to cut it.

In case you're wondering, no, I don't pay either of them even close to enough to deal with that.

As the ceiling was taken down, the lights were moved into the back space and a few were plugged in for a little light. They cast a creepy light on the whole space.


Bonus picture of the Wine Bar (such as it is).


Oh and some more of the future kitchen/current mess: