I was out of town for the last week and a half, thus the delay in updating this page.
Our previously-mentioned soon-to-be-former electrician is now our former electrician. And there was much rejoicing.
While I was gone, we finally managed to pass our electrical inspection, after having the inspector come out three times in one week (which, as you might expect, did not make the inspector happy.) This was needed because of multiple situations like: the inspector points to a strand of work-lights and says ``those are temporary lighting, they can't be up there. Take those down.'' Then our STBF-electrician would say ``ok'' and spend hours nailing that cable to the ceiling. The inspector would come back and say ``I told you to take that down.'' Amazing. But we finally passed.
It looks like next week or the week after, we're going to be replacing the front wall of the building. Well, about half of it, anyway: there are four cement pillars, and the rest of it is made of kleenex, so we're going to rip all that out and pour a brand new foot-thick concrete wall. This is, of course, insanely expensive, but it sounds like the cheapest way to soundproof that wall, and there's no way we'll be able to meet the city's current noise requirements if we don't do something this drastic. (The fact that the club has been operating this way for the last 25 years doesn't make any difference: I'm screwed regardless. Because the business has changed ownership, they expect me to meet the current standards. This is just one of the many ways in which it sucks to be me.)
We discovered that when we turn off the main circuit breaker, it also turns off the second floor of the pizza place next door. So DNA has been paying half of their electricity since the beginning of time.
Today we had a bunch of guys come in and take down all the stage lights, clean them, and figure out which ones work, which ones just need lamps, and which ones are shot. It looks like most of them are ok.
Oh, after my comment above about Glycol lines, I found out what that is: it's antifreeze, pretty much just like the green goo that's in your car. I got mail from a fellow who said ``we used glycol lines everywhere at South Pole Station...''