Barnes Place Northern Migration Information Update Site

Morgan Terrace.net Goes Live

2006-04-23T12:42:00.000-04:00

(Lake Forest, IL) -- A new Web site highlighting the condo unit Co-Directors Anthony Dornacher and Timothy State have purchased in the West Loop neighborhood of Chicago is now live. www.MorganTerrace.net incorporates upgrades of many of the same features found at BarnesPlace.com. News, event information, on-line tours, and a special place for the animals are all highlights of the new site.

The site takes its name from the building, The Morgan, and the large private terrace Dornacher and State will enjoy as part of the unit.

"The terrace is going to be one of the greatest features of the new crib," said State. "So it's with great anticipation we launch the new Web site that will serve as the clearinghouse for all things Morgan Terrace."

Dornacher and State have purchased a 1,252 square-foot unit on the northwest corner of the fourth floor. The two-bedroom, two-bath unit has an additional 555 square-foot private terrace, reminiscent of the Porch at Flamingo Grove at Barnes Place in Atlanta.

A floor plan of the unit can be found on the new MorganTerrace.net.

The main page of the site will feature a blog for latest news and information, which will primarily focus on The Morgan's upcoming construction.

"Between now and move-in day, the Web site will be updated frequently with photos and construction updates," said State. "We're very excited to get settled, and hopefully that will come through in the new site."

The Morgan, a 69-unit, 11-floor building at the corner of Morgan and Van Buren in the West Loop neighborhood is just west of The Loop, Chicago's central business district. It is two blocks from the CTA's Blue Line Halstead Street "L" stop, four blocks from Greektown, three blocks from the University of Illinois--Chicago, and a short walk from many of Chicago's cultural attractions.

New E-mail Addresses

With the new Web site come new e-mail addresses. While BarnesPlace.com and its corresponding addresses will continue to be valid, you will want to add the following e-mail addresses to your address book and spam filters:

tony.dornacher[at]morganterrace.net - Tony Dornacher
tim.state[at]morganterrace.net - Timothy State
codirectors[at]morganterrace.net - goes to both of us.
social.secretary[at]morganterrace.net - address updates and event R.S.V.P.

--END--

Banking on the Morgan

2005-03-15T08:14:00.000-05:00

While Dornacher was dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s in Atlanta, Director of Ambiance and Entertainment Timothy State was writing a check to begin the preliminary preliminary process of purchasing a pre-construction condo in Chicago’s West Loop Neighborhood. The neighborhood is just west of Chicago’s Loop, and is most famous for Greektown.

The building has about 60 units, and will break ground in May 2005 with an anticipated move-in date in late August 2006. The fourth-floor two-bedroom unit is 1,200 square feet, with a 555 square-foot terrace. A corner unit looking to the northwest, the entire unit will be filled with light and have views of Chicago’s skyline and urban sunsets to the west.

Purchasing the unit at this phase of the development process allows both State and Dornacher to select various options that fit their lifestyle.

“This will allow us to finally have a hard-wired disco ball,” said Director of Ambiance and Entertainment Timothy State. More details to come.

Barnes Place Comes to a Close

2005-03-15T07:35:00.000-05:00

Director of Catering and Guest Relations Anthony Dornacher returned late Monday, March 14 from Atlanta after a short and quick trip to complete the long and drawn-out sale of Barnes Place. In addition to the closing, he picked up his dry cleaning, and closed the safety deposit box.

The buyer originally offered to purchase Barnes Place while Dornacher was walking the dogs last November. After Dornacher and the buyer worked out the details, it was in the hands of the lenders. Then the appraisers. And don’t forget the termite guy. And when all of them couldn’t agree, the buyer fired his lender and got a new one, who didn’t believe he actually was going to live there. And then the termite letter had expired. The closing on Monday brings a four-month process to a close, and is the final step in our transition from Atlanta.

The Morgan

2005-02-14T07:47:00.000-05:00

We've found a place that we like in the West Loop. We've seen a property by this developer before, and liked the construction and the quality. And, at pre-construction prices, we could get a deal on something we couldn't afford otherwise. There are some great floor plans, but the one we really like is Unit 5. Specifically Unit 405 with the 500 s.f. terrace.

Expanding the Bubble of Freedom

2005-01-20T23:02:00.000-05:00

Our dogs have the personalities of perpetual toddlers who are eternally experimenting with defying authority, asserting their independence, and putting everything not tied down into their mouths. As a result, our dogs have learned to lead lives inside protective bubbles that Tony creates. While most dogs frolic freely from time-to-time, our dogs are coddled and shielded, protected from the atrocities of life—the wet grass that brushes up against their underbellies on a rainy day, a draft that might blow through the house, or even worse, the emotional and mental trauma stemming from the confusion generated by the smells of other animals on our clothing when we come home. “It’s okay,” Tony will explain to them. “I know you’re confused.”

So it’s no surprise we’re getting a lot of the same question from friends all across the country: “How are the animals adjusting to the big cross-country move?”

We're finally getting settled in to one-half of a duplex generally reserved for faculty on the south side of Lake Forest College’s campus. It’s a row of housing that is about as close to the projects or the wrong-side of the tracks as we can get in a community where checking out produce in your full-length fur is dressed down as long as you have a coordinating jogging suit underneath the animal wrap. We’ll begin looking for a place to buy as the weather starts to get warmer, or at least above the sub-zero temperatures we’ve been experiencing periodically since Tony arrived with the dogs and cat on New Year’s Eve.

I’d like to think the search will start sooner, but I’m sure it would upset the dogs and cat. They’re still adjusting after the car ride. Despite sedatives, Sheleata Kanatuna let Tony know his thoughts about the car trip before he even made it to Atlanta’s freeway when Sheleata evacuated his bowels and bladder in Tony’s lap. Sixteen hours later, Tony pulled up in Lake Forest, Long John still walking sideways from the drugs, Buster with legs of jell-o unable to stand, and Sheleata passed out on the floorboard of the car, underneath the clutch, his vodka snores audible from outside standing behind the car.

Now, with snow blanketing the ground, it’s much easier to track the squirrels, rabbits, deer and 600 students who live only an empty PBR can’s toss from the front door. It creates a maze of unlimited paths for Buster to follow, distracting him from ever pooping. While he frolics on the snow and ice, tracking students by the scent of their laundry detergent or favorite sorority cologne, Long John tip-toes along, his delicate little German ham hocks shivering in the breeze. We got Long John a coat, but he hasn’t yet figured out how to relieve himself on a snowdrift while wearing an overcoat. We may have to get Long John a pair of pair of boots; when his toes get cold, he simply stops, standing in one spot alternately lifting his legs off the pavement.

Neither one having produced the yellow snow symbolizing the success one looks for in a sub-zero stroll, they frolic inside. Long John has mastered the stairs of our two-story unit, while Buster tripped, falling on his second day. Now he climbs the stairs one-paw at a time, waiting until all four are firmly grounded on the same stair before placing his quivering paw with great trepidation on the next step. A bold, brassy hound, reduced to a sissy by a flight of stairs. As crazy as this sounds, Sheleata Kanatuna pushed Buster down the stairs the other day, and if cats can’t smile, Sheleata definitely had the smug look of satisfaction that overcomes a toddler when he thinks he’s just accomplished something completely original. And, I swear, that cat chuckled.

While Long John sits at the front door, looking through the full-length window, watching the fashion parade by, Buster checks out a place still new to him. Newness can only mean one thing to a dog like Buster: all-new floors and carpets to crap and piss all over.

“It’s alright,” says Tony, his patience for inappropriate dog behavior miles long. “I know you’re confused.”

“Buster!” I yell. “On more dump like that and it’s to the glue factory for you!” Tony glares at me like I’m a crazed dictator with a hang-up over dogs with a propensity to crap indoors. Tony explains to me that Buster gets confused because the hardwood floors are the color of the earth, and to further add to the confusion, the cat gets to crap inside every day. I point out to Tony that dogs are color blind, and explain to Buster that Sheleata is more sophisticated, and that if he were a little classier, then maybe he could go in a box like the cat. But to him, a cat box is an all-you-can-eat buffet, so we’re a long way from that level of refinement.

Despite Buster’s fecal incontinence, both he and Long John have quickly become socialites on campus. Our little crapper clappers are rushing almost all the sororities on campus this spring, and administrative assistants in two different departments have started knitting them sweaters. Our neighbor had us over for chicken and sausage pot pie and a box of blush wine, while she explained she has decided that Long John should have a double-breasted jacket with brass buttons that will go on top so that it will be easier for us to put the jacket on. Right next door lives a little yapping dog, and she knitted little squirrels running in fear on his sweater.

It warms our hearts to know the children have been so quickly accepted and embraced. For in Lake Forest, a dog cannot be without his fashion. The expectations here are pretty high, and it’s a challenge to keep up, in this town where you can determine a person’s wealth by the number of garage doors on their house, particularly if there is a separate building for the garage. And by building, I’m not referring to a tool shed that accommodates a car, rather, one that can house your house staff above the garage housing your collection of cars.

In Lake Forest, the suburb in a bubble, the greatest crime against society besides outerwear for dogs that doesn’t match the leash, is divorce. Divorce wrecks more housewives then you could possibly imagine. My new title as Director of Special Projects provides me great latitude in the social circles I can invite myself to. With little to do one evening before Tony and the animals arrived, I attended a financial planning seminar, targeted specifically at women who have been wronged by the atrocities of divorce.

“Ladies, I used to think I didn’t know anything about finances, or that they were too complicated for me to understand,” said Judy, a real chip of the cleaver off the block of June Cleaver. She was leading the discussion. “One day I opened up my Betty Crocker Cook Book,” she held the book with plaid cover for all to see. “And I realized, ladies, we have ten different words for how to cut. And I said to myself, ‘Self, if you can understand all these words for cut, then you can certainly understand finances.’”

“So, my husband long gone with his secretary, and with no life savings of my own, I decided the only way to learn about banking was to go into banking. So I went to an executive club meeting. And this was back in the days when there were not women executives. I had to enter through the kitchen.”

Her words were inspiring, as she spoke with eloquence and poise about climbing over kitchen counters, over the potato peels simply to get into the boys club of banking. The lines between financial planning seminar and Tupperware party blurred when the presentation turned interactive, and Judy quizzed the audience hanging on to her every word, “Prizes, ladies! I’ve got prizes. Now, in what city is the Federal Reserve Bank that holds the most gold?”

“Switzerland!” said one overzealous overachiever eyeing the financial self-help book, Healing Your Way to a Brighter Tomorrow, Jenny was teasing the crowd with.

“Oh, Sally, Switzerland isn’t a city. The Federal Reserve is in Johannesburg.”

Jenny gave the book away a few minutes later when they ran out of countries in the Eastern hemisphere, and a woman who went on a fur-buying spree in New York remembered seeing a Federal Reserve Bank out the taxi window. “It’s just a lucky guess,” she explained to the crowd as she claimed her prize.

“Well, ladies, you may be guessing now, but when we’re done with this seminar, you’re going to know all about finances so you’ll never have to guess again,” Judy said. “So, who here knows that too much credit can actually ruin your credit?”

“Let me tell you,” said a woman in the front, turning around, standing up, hijacking the lecture, “this once happened to me. I had to buy a gift in the Banana Republic,” she said, as if it’s a foreign country. “I mean, I don’t even shop in the Banana Republic, but I wanted to save ten percent, you know, so I signed up for the card.”

She held her hand to the chest of her plaid Channel suit to express the sincerity of her confession.

“When we went to get the loan for the new master suite and family room, they told me, ‘I’m sorry, but you have too much credit.’ I mean. Too. Much. Credit!”

Collective gasp of astonishment.

“Too much credit! Who ever heard of such a thing? So I said to my bank, ‘Well, fix this!’ and they told me I had to close my Banana Republic card, my Talbots card, and my Gap card. I mean, I don’t even shop in those stores, but just got the cards to save ten percent.”

She thrust her shoulders back, standing up straight. “I’m telling you, this lady banker here is absolutely right. A Banana Republic card can hurt you more than you think.”

Had I been in a Southern Baptist church filled with large black women in bonnets and white gloves, they would have been proclaiming “Amen, sistah!” throwing their hands to the roof. But this is not a church where you use a fan printed with gospel hymns to keep you cool. This is an art history lecture hall at an expensive college on the lily-white North Shore of Chicago where dogs where name-brand fashions, and the women shop in furs. Here, these women gasp, clutch their pearls, and turn to each other in realization they are not alone in the shame of holding damaging credit cards for stores in which they don’t actually shop, but had to once pass through the doors to purchase a gift.

“So how are you supposed to get the 10% off?”

* * *

A few weeks later, I was having dinner at an uptown (there is no downtown in Lake Forest) restaurant when I overhead the conversation behind me.

“I had to fly to Phoenix last weekend. It’s such a pain owning your own Learjet.”

“Oh, why Phoenix?”

“That’s where our mechanic is. It had to be serviced.”

“Well, at least it’s Phoenix.”

“That’s for sure. I mean, we did get in a weekend of skiing.”

“Yeah. You could have been in Wichita, Kansas.”

“Oh, God, no. What could you do in Wichita?

“That’s what I’m sayin’.”

* * *

When someone asks “How are the dogs adjusting to the big cross-country move?”, or any of the other related questions, such as “How are the dogs doing with the snow?” and “Do the dogs like the cold?” the question one really is asking is, “How is Tony adjusting?”

It’s a Stepford world we’ve landed in here in Lake Forest. Snow only falls from the sky beautifully, the Federal Reserve is in Switzerland, and when we wake up in the morning, we have to dig out the Learjet from last night’s snowfall. This town lives in a protective bubble that keeps the ills of society out. Tony has lightened up a bit when it comes to the dogs. It seems the Stepford bubble is enough to free Tony from worrying about what the dogs might put in their mouths; he’s now focused on a real issue: what will they wear. Somehow, the dogs, who once lived in a bubble in Atlanta have been liberated by moving to a community that operates in a much larger bubble. Their limits have been extended by the greater limits and expectations of the community around them.

The truth is, the dogs are adjusting just fine. They’re dogs. They have their pack. Food is put in their stomach. And the flow of affection has not stopped one bit; if anything, it’s increased. From their perspective, life really hasn’t changed. True, they’re learning to pee on ice, there is a set of stairs between their food bowl and the bed, and we now live in a place that has rabbits, squirrels, deer and 600 students waltzing by in front of the house daily. These, however, are just minor inconveniences, like the child-proof cap on a bottle of Drain-o, just a fifteen-minute setback to pending disaster.

But even in this model community, far from the Federal Reserves of Switzerland, where credit from Banana can keep you from building a wing, and with its shortage of Learjet maintenance crews, there are down days. The children occasionally fall down stairs, their feet get cold because they don’t wear the right shoes, they occasionally get distracted by something exciting walking by, and, yes, they occasionally crap in the wrong spot. I’d say the dogs are adjusting perfectly.

How is Tony doing? It is him who I’m worried about; he only thought there were 8 words for cut.

Housing Pending For Co-Directors

2004-11-21T15:42:00.000-05:00

HLC and Christmas Cancelled for 2005
Housing for the Barnes Place Co-Directors is pending at the moment. With a contract on Barnes Place, the final sale and closing scheduled for the end of December, and housing in Chicagoland not settled, everything is pending, but moving forward, indicated Director of Catering and Guest Relations Anthony Dornacher. Given the pending status, Director of Ambiance and Entertainment Timothy State regretfully announced that Christmas, including the Holiday Lighting Ceremony, is cancelled this year.

Dornacher was walking the dogs a few weeks back when approached by a neighbor about buying Barnes Place. After bantering back-and-forth for a week, a price agreement was made, and a contract on the table. Dornacher sent the contract to Lake Forest for State’s signature.

“I think it was the crystals,” said State, referring to the green termaine crystals both State and Dornacher were charging for a quick sale at the price desired. “We didn’t even have to list it on the market or use a real estate agent.”

The Co-Directors had been holding off on listing Barnes Place until a few cosmetic issues were addressed. In the mean time, they had been feeling out real estate agents, charging crystals, and looking for the correct match for Barnes Place. Before all of the cosmetic issues were addressed, the neighbor had stepped forward with an offer and a willingness to negotiate.

HLC and Christmas Cancelled
With the pending sale of Barnes Place and the Northern Migration move coming together on the cusp of the Holiday season, Co-Directors State and Dornacher have regretfully cancelled the season. While the Holidays at Barnes Place have been closed, people should plan on moving forward with their own holiday plans as normal.

The Holiday Lighting Ceremony has been a tradition since 1988 Dixon Petunua Festival Queen Liz Mobarak plugged two extension cords together illuminating a low-budget display of holiday lights and sounds. That was in 1992 at Lake Forest College, and in weird twist of fate, State now finds himself back at Lake Forest College.

“This year, we were going to celebrate the 13th Anniversary of the Holiday Lighting Ceremony. We were going to skip and just say it’s the 14th Anniversary. You know, for those who are superstitious,” the crystal-charging State pointed out. “I guess it’s a mixed blessing. If ever there were a year for the lights to come crashing down on the crowd, this would be the year.”

“Think of it as preventative,” added Dornacher.

In lue of the Holiday Lighting Ceremony, Co-Directors State and Dornacher are asking you to remember on your own those less fortunate in your community and that you share your success of the past year with them. While Barnes Place will not be collecting canned goods for the Atlanta Community Food Bank, that does not mean there will be people with need this holiday season.

“As our country continues to address the lack of freedom in other parts of the world, keep in mind there are those right here in our America that are trapped in lives of poverty,” said State. “They could use a boost.”

State and Dornacher usually celebrate Christmas at Waffle House. This year, it will most likely be at a Waffle House, only with a U-Haul parked out front.

--END--

Picture Perfect

2004-09-19T22:42:00.000-04:00

Here are a few shots I snapped with my new Motorolo v600 phone.

I am living in what was once a servant's room in Glen Rowan House, the College's mansion that is used for guests and V.I.P.s. This is a view of my room.

The view from my third-floor room.

My morning commute takes me past the Chapel and Young Hall along they way to North Hall.

Here's Your Keys. Now Get To Work.

2004-09-13T23:07:00.000-04:00

First Day at Lake Forest College. Again.
Because I know the institution, there is an assumption that I know what’s going on. I was welcomed with open arms, hugs, and even a breakfast reception complete with a welcome gift (a framed photo of me from my college days), signed greeting card, beverages and breakfast snacks. “Welcome home,” they said, then I was handed the keys, given a few passwords and set loose. Of course, I’m like, “Could you explain how this e-mail program works?”

Right now, I’ve got an incredibly slow Windows machine, which is okay as I’m still trying to figure out this whole concept of “right-clicking” after having worked on a Mac for the past decade.

Upon logging onto Hermes, the College’s e-mail server, I had 113 e-mails waiting for me. Sorting through them, I learned that if you’re certified to drive a College vehicle, you need to re-certify; my computer contains virus-scanning programs, but it’s my responsibility to keep it up-to-date; the dorm room fire in Gregory Hall has displaced four students, but no one was hurt, and special thanks to the mailroom supervisor who responded quickly. “You can delete most of those,” my colleges suggested. But I found it all so intriguing, I couldn’t help but to read every single word. I think the e-mails from the Information Technology Team providing insightful updates on service glitches were the most fascinating—using e-mail to explain e-mail is down.

The afternoon was filled with meetings. I put out a fire with editing a letter that had to go out that night, and I found four minutes to enjoy my mid-afternoon snack—an orange. It was 6 p.m. before I knew it, and I had to get to the cafeteria for dinner before it closed.

Having worked for small, family companies most of my career, this is a little unusual. Refreshingly weird, really. Is this how the rest of the world works? I decided after dinner, I would cruise by the office, do some recreational reading, and make a few lists of things to do, supplies I need. And that’s when I figured out my key doesn’t work. This job is going to be bigger than I ever imagined.

Modern Digs

2004-09-12T23:03:00.000-04:00

After taken Dan to the airport, I returned to Lake Forest and Glen Rowan House. It’s the College’s mansion they use for meetings and overnight VIPs. However, don’t get too excited. I’ve got a former servant’s room on the third floor, above the kitchen in the attic, just off the room that is now used for conferences. There is no central air and the temperature here is easily 100 degrees, no phone, and the bathroom is downstairs.

With 20-year-old potpourri, a twin bed with a mattress that is older, and mis-matched furniture, the room is best described as ‘pleasantly-appointed.’ Dan said it’s a room fit for a Franciscan monk. I unpacked my clothes. Set up a few pictures from home. And then swallowed two Tylenol PM to make it all go away.

And as I lay their staring at the ceiling thinking I’m not living Barton Fink, I realized while this room is a definite step up from the dorm rooms of my day, it is most likely a step down from today’s modern dorm room.

Emotional Breakdown at Proffessional Cleaners

2004-09-09T17:15:00.000-04:00

It tends to hit when I least expect it. The misty-eyes, that is. Today, I stopped by Proffessional Cleaners to pick up the dry cleaning. It was one of those moments that hits like a Fujita-5 tornado out of nowhere.

Sunny, the owner of Proffessional Cleaners (pronounced “Pwofe-fesh-ing-o Cwean-ers), and I go back a long way. She opened her first dry cleaning shop on Cheshire Bridge road in late February 1995. The same week, I move to Atlanta. I was one of her first customers, and because people only take dry cleaning close to where they live or work, I’m consequently one of her longest-standing customers.

It wasn’t by design, really. There are plenty of dry cleaners more convenient to our lives since we moved into Barnes Place in 1996. I just couldn’t muster the courage to pick up the dry cleaning and not drop something else off. I did that once, and Sunny scolded me, “Oh, no cweaning today? You don’t go udder pwace. Udder pwace not as gwood.” And so I never changed, and as a result, every year, she buys us specwul Cwistmas gift for being most-favwite customwer.

I said good bwe and tank woo for de finaw time, as Sunny wang me up, and her son, who has been taking my dwy cweaning to my car for the past 10 years, walked my cwean cwose to the car one last time. I was a little over kempt with emotion. She gave me a hug, shook my hand and said she’s enjoyed doing my laundry.

I thought about all the people I see in my day. The Polish women who rang up my lunch from the Publix deli almost every day. The guy at the gym who always nodded and waved and reminded me of the membership renewal special they had going on that day. My server at El Potro Mexican Restaurant who would grab me a Diet Coke and order Lunch Special #2 with Chicken the moment I walked in the door. All people I don’t know, but are always there and in some small way, through a smile, a nod, a wink, a special thank you--some how make the day just a little bit better. How can I not miss that?

Saint Joseph Kit

2004-09-04T09:31:00.000-04:00

Tony ordered one of these kits to help facilitate the sale of the house. He's convinced it's what helped his parents sell their home.

Co-Directors Conduct Barnes Place Releasing Ceremony

2004-09-02T19:23:00.000-04:00

One night this week, we held a ceremony, thanking Barnes Place for the energy and love its walls and foundation, and the protection its roof has provided. We popped open a bottle of wine, lit a candle, and traveled from room to room, recalling special moments.

I took along the laptop and recorded our thoughts in each room.

Tony: For me, the house--the whole house--brings a great deal of joy. By providing us with the ability to bring those that we love, or those that are close to us, basically our family, we’re able to bring them together and celebrate life with them.

There are several rooms that have more meaning to me than others. One of which is the kitchen. The kitchen is where people come together at a party to get their cocktails and to socialize with me. It’s also one of my rooms with creativity where I make magical dishes that are filled with much love that I serve to those who come and visit us at Barnes Place.

Tim: I like the kitchen. I like it because it’s pretty. It’s not like any other kitchen. The boomerang Formica is no longer made. And we display our tchotchkes from our travels here. The first one we displayed was the Soccer Trophy that was left behind in the house when we bought it. It says Soccer Capital of Georgia – Tucker. And it has two boys wrestling for a ball. It was given to the champions of the 1987 Southeastern Soccer Festival.

I think my proudest moment was when we were able to extend coaxial cable to the kitchen, bringing the world and entertainment to our 1950s-inspired design. And there are gifts. Gifts of love from friends—our family, on display for all to see.

And I think if I knew what I know now, it would have a different name than the Frisky Kitchen.

Tony: One of the things I enjoy most about making dishes in the kitchen is when Long John comes to visit me, smelling the foods and sitting and waiting for that possible scrap that may jump off the counter.

Tim: I also like the view. We can hear the freeway, and yet there is a hill between here and Midtown’s skyline, where our nation fought a civil war. Yet life goes here. We see busy and bustle but, we’re in a quiet, peaceful space.

We moved the candle onto the Viking Dining Room.

Tony: Here in the Viking Dining Room, friends and family gather here, either at a formally set table, using Grandma Chandler’s silverware, or for one of our festive events to socialize and enjoy the food that I prepare in the Frisky Kitchen. It’s also the room where Blanche stands guard over Barnes Place, welcoming guests and watching over to make sure that everyone is happy. And that Barnes Place and its caretakers are safe.

Tim: When I think of the Viking Dining Room, I think of two things. I think of how much I learned about painting in this, the first room I painted ever. And I think about how badly it needs to be redone. But I also know how much energy it took, and I just hope no one looked that closely. This is the room that is the motivation for dynamic centerpieces that draw people’s eyes from the paint. The second thing I think of is Sheleata Kanatuna and our first dinner party, when he leaped up onto the table while Tony was in the kitchen and helped himself to Tony’s cottage cheese salad as nine other people looked on and laughed. I think this room proves that if you’ve never hosted a dinner party, then you might not possibly have received all the love you can possibly receive.

I love the chandelier; it’s interesting. Which room next?

Tony pointed to the Sashay Lounge.

Tony: When I think of the Sashay Lounge, I think of it as the social nerve center of Barnes Place. When people aren’t eating or getting a cocktail in the kitchen or dining room, they’re here. Meeting new friends, or chatting with friends they’ve met here before. It’s a room full of tremendous energy, excitement and electricity. It also seems to be the favorite room of the animals. A place where they can perch themselves on the sofas to watch our guests come and go, or just plain old guard the house. Barking so loudly when a stranger or another animal gets within eyeshot of Barnes Place.

Thank you Sashay Lounge and Viking Dining Room. I look forward to brining your energy to another place. (You didn’t have to type that.)

Tim: I think this might be the room I miss the most. Not it’s Sashay Red walls, or the autographed photo of the porn star sitting next to the anniversary picture of Grandma and Grandpa, or the jungle theme sitting in the corner – a gift of Sean’s mother. I think what I’m going to miss most about this room is the energy it has brought not only to our lives, but the lives of everyone who has visited. The sense of wow. The impression that it’s grander than ever described anywhere. The thrill of two people crossing paths and realizing their lives are connected in other ways.

There are so many times when you are in this room, that you can’t help but feel this is the center of the world. Straight men have learned to love gay men. Adversaries have found peace. And not a single beauty contest on TV has been spared the scrutiny of our friends.

You remember the night we were sitting here and someone knocked on the door while we were having dinner, and when we opened the door, she burst in and said, “I was driving by, and I saw the lights in this room, and I a just had to stop and see this.”

Tony: I don’t remember that.

Tim: The holiday lights.

Tony: Oh, that’s right. The holiday lights.

Tim: I think that’s the power of this room. You simply just had to see it.

Tony: You want to go back to front?

Tim: We could go on the porch.

We moved the candle to the Porch at Flamingo Grove.

Tony: The Porch at Flamingo Grove is essentially an extension of the Sashay Ballroom. I think of it as the arms of Barnes Place when you first step on to the porch. The love and energy of Barnes Place embraces them, engulfing them more as they walk up each step.

I remember a time when the porch was sad, and its roof was drooping and its paint was pealing. And with the help of my Dad, we transformed a frowning a porch into a glorious smile, welcoming every visitor with even more love than it had before.

Tony: I remember how much of a difference that made. Taking down the awning, and fixing the porch, and painting the trim Barnes Place Bisque and Sheleata Kana-Tan. A neighbor came over and asked what we did with Barnes Place. “Barnes Place is really looking good,” he said.

The energy really starts out here.

Remember how we’d sit here and watch the ladies come to bingo. When the dialysis clinic was a bingo hall. And there was that huge Chevy Impala that parked in front of Barnes Place every Sunday.

Tony: The big huge black woman who wore all the hats. Dressed in her Sunday best with this big-ass hats.

Tim: The door would swing open, and she’d roll out. A bingo blotter wedge between each stubby digit, and that huge vinyl purse always dumping on the ground.

And the stripper with the skin pigmentation problem.

This really is not the outside, but it’s room, and we’ve lived in it and our front yard. I hate our yard. I don’t know how it manages to look so good. But I certainly won’t miss those early weekend mornings trying to make it look better.

What about the rose bush? It’s had to have been there for more than half a century. It’s probably greeted almost everyone who’s come to this porch.

Shall we go in?

Tony: Yes, I’m being eaten alive. Thank you, Porch.

We moved on to the Elvis Aaron Presley Memorial Cineplex.

Tony: When I think of the Cineplex, I think of it as the media center of Barnes Place.

Tim: Well that’s why it has its name.

Tony: I know that. The location, where the background music is projected throughout the house and even onto the porch. And music just isn’t enough. There’s video, too. I love sitting in here with close friends, lounging on the futon, taking in a movie. Eating the modern day version of TV dinners.

One of the most amusing things I remember about the Cineplex. Was when we were painting Barnes Place, we decided to take the wallpaper of the walls in this room only to discover that the walls didn’t have a top plaster coat. So we chose a color that would make it look like we faux finished the walls.

One corner of this room is especially fabulous. It holds Margherite, a lamp given new life with a fabulous paint job and a shade that makes everyone giggle.

Tim: (Giggles.) So many guests have said that if they could walk away with a piece of Barnes Place, it would be Margherite. I challenged one to try and walk out of the house with it in her hand while saying good night to everyone.

I think this is the most comfortable room in the house. It’s peaceful, and not as active as the other rooms.

Tony: It’s often the party retreat where guest come to get away from the hubbub of the kitchen and the living room and the dining room.

Tim: But I love watching movies here with friends as well. You can’t help but to be close to someone sitting on the futon with you here. And not just physically.

I sometimes wonder if we’ll be able to recreate the magic elsewhere. Will it follow? Or is it the luck we found within these walls?

Tony: I know the magic will follow.

Tim: Because I have a cute ass?

Tony: Because of Tim’s cute ass.

Not only do I believe that the walls of Barnes Place were full of magic when we moved in, but I also believe that we’re creators of magic and community. And that our next destination we’ll do the same if not better because we’ve learned so much from Barnes Place.

You’ve been a glorious room, Cineplex. Thank you.

Tim: Shall we move on?

Tony: Sure.

We grabbed the candle and moved to the office.

Tim: Remember when Dan tried to rename the office?

Tony: That’s right. I forgot about that.

Tim: But a name has to just come to a place. You can’t give it. So this room has always been the office. Just a plain old office.

Tony: I think the room is more than an office.

Tim: Well, maybe that’s why it’s never been named.

Tony: The office takes on a slice over every single room in the house. And a piece of each of us. Ideas are born and shared here. Everything from Tim’s writing to the recipes I cook in the kitchen.

Tim: See, I don’t think the ideas are born here. I think they clear through here. They are processed here, but they are born within us everywhere and everyplace we go.

Tony: Ah. It’s our kitchen of ideas.

Tim: Well, now we have a name. It’s the Idea Kitchen and Pantry. Ideas To-Go.

I just hope to someday get grandma’s turntable working again so that it can play Billy Vaughn once again. I think that fact that this room has high-speed internet access, coaxial cable, satellite feeds, and six phone lines along with a 1960s console stereo is just really wonderful.

Tony: We’ve got one more stop.

Tim: Two more. The bathroom.

Tim went to go sit on the pot.

Tony: I’ll always be reminded by Tim that since we pay for 911, I should use it.

Tim: I just wanted the firemen here with your fabulous spread. It was dinnertime.

Tony: I was referring to the fabulous party we through in which a guest managed to shut the bathroom door, which had not been shut in five years. He locked himself in. In an act of extraordinary butchness, broke down the door and released our guest.

Tim: If only we could figure out why Sheleata prefers the tub to piss in over her liter box.

Tony: Well at least Sheleata doesn’t pee in the plants.

Tim: I fear Shealta’s future pee habits. There is no skank like the skank of cat pee. If drop-kicking would help, I would have pursued that.

I won’t miss these damn washers that never manage to work like demonstrated in the self-plumbing guides. This is the room that often reminds us that new is nice.

We both went to go lie down on the bed.

Tony: I didn’t realize you could see right in the bedroom up there?

Tim: Oh, the new building? Yes, it’s beginning to feel a little like a city.

Tony: Besides resting in this room, many of the memories aren’t fit for publication. There, that is probably as spice as you get out of me, baby.

Tim: This room is so peaceful. I’m proud of the fung shui and the use of the colors. I really do sleep well here. It’s restful. If I could share with the world, I would. But you have boundaries.

Tony: Do you want to go into the basement?

Tim: We should go into the basement.

We moved to the bacement stairs. Sheleata Kanatuna joined us.

Tim: This basement reminds me of my grandmother’s basement. It’s filled with things. All with stories. I look around, and I can’t believe how much stuff we have acquired. If only we could have a bon fire down here, maybe that would make getting rid of stuff easier. Do you think we should take the mannequins with us?

Tony: We certainly can’t burn them. We’d probably pass out from the fumes while standing around the bon fire.

Tim: I like the fridge in the basement. We always have a nice selection of cold beverages. I think I’ll miss having two refrigerators.

What are you thinking?

Tony: Just looking around.

Tim: How do we know when we’re done with the ceremony?

Tony: I finished thanking the house for all the wonderful things it’s brought us. I’m ready.

Tim: Can we throw things out now?

Tony: Of course we can purge. They won’t be thrown away, though. We’ll give them to Charity so they can be reused.

Co-Directors Announce Northern Migration

2004-08-28T13:00:00.000-04:00

State Accepts New Job in Chicagoland
ATLANTA, GA – “Our work in the South is done,” proclaimed Director of Ambiance and Entertainment Timothy State. “We’ve done all we can do, and now it’s up to them to save themselves.” State is referring to their pending Northern Migration, set to commence on Friday, September 10, 2004 when State will travel to Chicago, Illinois, where he has accepted a new position with Lake Forest College as the Director of Special Projects, set to begin Monday, September 13. Director of Catering and Guest Relations Anthony Dornacher will stay in Atlanta until Barnes Place can be sold, and then will relocate to Chicago, transferring with American Express.

The announcement comes as a shock and a surprise to many, who are left with more questions than answers. To others, particularly those up North, the announcement is being greeted with celebration. State and Dornacher’s departure will end a decade of Yankee Occupation.

In their time in the South, the two co-directors have gained an appreciation for Southern Style, and completely infused local customs and flare into their sophisticated Yankee ways. Their ongoing study has helped to blur the lines between blue and grey that define distinct regional cultures.

State graduated from Lake Forest College in 1993. He’s been a volunteer with the Alumni Board of Governors for several years now, and was recently inducted onto the Board last spring. Preparing to join the Development Department Staff, he’s stepped down from his volunteer post. As the Director of Special Projects, State will oversee the development of many of the marketing and communications materials associated with the College’s Annual Fund, as well as other programs. In this role, State will assist several departments within the Development department, implementing new programs and initiatives. The position will tap into his professional project management, marketing and special events background, as well as his volunteer community-building experience.

Personally, both State and Dornacher are looking forward to being closer to family, as well as a strong peer network of friends. They’re also looking forward to being closer to Illinois’ riverboat casinos.

“While we are reluctantly leaving a lot behind in Atlanta, we are moving to so much in Chicago,” said State. “This simply is a great career opportunity that will get us closer to family and friends, and significantly more opportunity for Tony professionally than what is available here in Atlanta.”

A special website has been created to answer questions about the move to Chicago. Simply direct your browser to move.barnesplace.com.

Houseboys Dan and Sean had little to say, other than, “Chicago better know what it’s getting – again.”

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