ALL HANDS ON DECK

The time has come to paint the deck. I have been putting it off because it rains every few hours this horrific summer. I found a dry slot recently and ventured outdoors with my can of deck stain and sloppy clothes.It wasn't two minutes,I say proudly,before I had splashed enough paint on myself to simulate an abdominal bullet wound and inadvertamtly started painting the deck floor with a BP like spill that eventually made my black sneakers brown and black.



I enjoy painting and in real life I am not sloppy. But there's something about a bucket of paint and having to get it from that container onto a brush and slapping it on a surface that makes me want to be indelicate. I like to slop that stuff on the surface and smooth it out with my brush and if there is collateral staining on my person or in the immediate area ,these are the spoils of home maintenance.



As I do my work, neighbors pass and as if it's been rehearsed they say "Looks good,Jeff." In reality it doesn't look a lot different from the pre painted deck because I'm using the same color but I appreciate the neighborly support. What doesn't look good is Jeff. I look like a tribal warrior with flecks of brown decorating areas of my anatomy not used to being adorned with deck stain. It's difficult to tell me from a chocolate chip.



One hour into this project I wonder why I was putting myself through this. The ecomony is bad and some handyman would consider painting this deck easy money. It was fun for awhile but now when turning back is not an option, I wish I were cavorting with pit bulls.



I factored in the fact that no rain woukld fall on me but less predictable were the free falling acorns from an oak tree that is generally deck friendly with the shade it provides and all. Now as I pant and paint I am being hit in the head by nature's bb's which,after hitting me,rest in the wet paint.



I'm not known for being a handy guy. My other wonderful qualities mask the fact that I need to check the internet before I change a light bulb. Many of the neighbors are aware of this, having seen a cavalcade or construction experts,handymen and Jehovah's Witnesses performing a number of services at my home. This explains why neighbors sitting outdoors are craning their necks,pointing in my direction and rubbing their eyes in disbelief. I'm feeling my oats now,painting in confident,sloppy strokes,letting the paint fall where it may,sweating the sweat of a man of competence and in the process, doing something that makes my home look better instead of hiring someone. For one brief shining moment,I'm handy. I make certain I look like I know what I'm doing hoping they can see me even though it's getting dark and so am I...what has brown done for me? I have been painting for six hours and the deck is done. But some of the boards that adorn the front of the deck need replacing and I'm in a groove. I grab a hammer, a nail and a new board and start to hammer it in place. Look neighbors! I don't just paint! I hammer...I replace and repair! I might even have a business card made.



It's now dark and both the deck and I are painted and one of us needs a second coat. I've put in a sloppy days work and shown the neighborhood that when push comes to shove, I need the help of no one when something needs to be done. The second coat can wait until tomorrow when again I will reopen the can of stain, get the brush out of the baggie and mess myself like an incontinent pigeon. But afterward whenever I sit on that deck with friends and family I can proudly tell the story of a man and his brush and one summer evening when we combined to make the neighborhood think I was as handy as a carpenter, but only I knew it was actually Karen.