Quick and dirty update to catch you up to speed.
Last week...wife and grommets were gone...I hire the tape and texture guy to come and finish the kitchen. Wife comes home and sees walls ready for paint...wife very happy with lazy husband.
Now to the story.
So today, with all of the ice of Lake Byron contained to an area of about 5 football fields because of a strong Easterly wind, my mind starts to think about the pending fun of summer. I can't help but also think about all the work that needs to be done as well.
Part of the work/fun balance equation is being taken care of today as Steph, mom and Aunt Patty are going to paint the kitchen. I learned long ago from my wise father that it is good to be real bad at painting...I mean really bad.
I couldn't do a good job painting a canvas white, let alone painting a kitchen "crested cinnamon". What the heck color is cinnamon anyway? Cinnamon to me is a taste...and right now I might drive to the Empire Mall to hit up the Cinn-a-bon store for one of their fat freshys.
My wife sees white walls and a big empty room as a blank canvas for her HG-TV inspired feng-shui style of decorating our homes. Good on her, because I would have a couple of hockey jerseys, a poster of Alyssa Milano and a Chicago Cubs flag up on the walls. And instead of a "focal point" of decor, I would hang my wakeboard, snowboard, mountain bike, climbing gear, a few big Star Wars toys and hockey equipment on some sort of "mecca to fun stuff mobile" from the ceiling.
Yeah, she balances me that way.
Isn't that why we marry in the first place?
So our couches are not had-me-downs without legs, and our end tables are not made out of recycled lumber with a bunch of marker-written funny one liners or autographs of infamous people. (yes, I meant infamous, not un-famous...watch the movie ¡Three Amigos! for the back joke on that one) My college room mates are laughing right now.
Our "bachelor pad" was a tribute to Hockey, Eric's Sega Genesis, tv and stereo, Rahn and my CD collection and Thaler and Rahn's movies. But the "focal point" was an end table, in front of the legless couch, that was a dinner table, study desk, sometime weapon in epic wrestling matches, and a pedestal for the house champion of NHL 95 to proclaim his glory.
I built the table out of scrap wood from the lumber yard where I worked during my college days...I don't remember how the whole autograph thing started, but everyone that visited signed that thing. The top, the legs, the underside where ever you could find room. Then each year we would add another layer of plywood to the top to start a new round of writings and wisdoms. I think it ended up with 3 layers.
I don't ever remember what became of it...if I gave it to some underclassmen or junked it or what...but as I look back it would be fun to have. I also know on the first or second layer, Adam Vinatieri (pre-NFL fame) autographed the table.
I guess, for men, that's what college is for, so we live like dogs in dirty houses with bad furniture with a bunch of other dawgs. For women, college is about the education and figuring out which type of dog you could best train to sit around on your classy furniture (with legs) and not put too much stupid crap on your walls. Most of us domesticated dawgs get one wall and it's in the garage.
For the record, my college roommates...
Rahny, married, successful, with children in a beautiful home, and works in the banking industry.
Thaler, married, successful, with children in a beautiful home, works in the ag industry.
Erkel, well let's say, Eric is a successful farmer, and still generating his story, he is also the leader of about 6 bachelors in Beadle County, they are on Lake Byron on most calm days ripping it up behind the Malibu.
Bozzell, married, successful, with children, in a beautiful home, and Boz also builds beautiful homes if you are in the market in Sioux Falls.
Giles, married, successful, with children on a beautiful acreage, owns his own engineering firm.
Me, married, what is successful???, with children and still acts like a child, in a home on the lake that is becoming more beautiful every day, thanks to the wife.
Yeah, we all turned out pretty good...crazy isn't it?
5 comments:
I guess, for men, that's what college is for, so we live like dogs in dirty houses with bad furniture with a bunch of other dawgs. For women, college is about the education and figuring out which type of dog you could best train to sit around on your classy furniture (with legs) and not put too much stupid crap on your walls. Most of us domesticated dawgs get one wall and it's in the garage.
That's awesome. I love the end table story, would be cool to have that thing back.
As much fun as it was, being domesticated has its perks. I mean, who actually enjoys using the Yellow Pages for toilet paper? I know I didn't.
I learned long ago from my wise father that it is good to be real bad at painting...I mean really bad".
Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. I am wondering if you learned this from your father, I kind of doubt it, from your Uncle Skipper, yes, I could buy into that.
I remember failing to open a can of paint and causing a mess on the floor...now it appears to be an act of pure genius!
While working for the city one summer with Wade Hofer, we were going around painting fire hydrants a fresh coat of yellow paint. As we made our way to the next fire hydrant a gallon of paint tipped over and leaked through the well worn city truck rust holes and onto the streets. As a city worker, one does not go directly to the next fire hydrant but takes a few extra turns and side roads to get there. The result was about a mile of freshly painted yellow lines on the side streets of Huron. All I can say is...Wade was driving.
The funny side of Brent's story is that I followed in his footsteps a few years later...in fact, Verlie's oldest son and I spent a summer in one of D. Tschetter's old worn out trucks.
We spent many a morning looking for "Shep" the water department's lost dog...seems the dog has been lost for several decades.
I think Bryan and I actually drove on every street in Huron, we would start on the west side and work our way east...then the next week, start north and work our way south.
On one of our first days, Dougy called over the CB radio, "W-4 to W-dipsticks, W-4 to W-dipsticks"...Bryan looked at me and said...that must be us, so I grabbed the mic and said, "This is W-dipsticks, go ahead."
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