I’m not a big complainer. Okay…I suppose that’s all about how you define ‘big’. Anyways…I’m preparing a painting job for last weekend, having done the cutting around the ceiling of the Tack Room at the farm in preparation for doing the entire room. I was trying to get a little ahead because I figured I’d be two-coating the entire room and the trim, as well. The color selected a month earlier was not my first choice, but the ladies on the ‘paint committee’ wanted it and had selected a dark brown trim to go with it. I liked that part, at least, since everything in the farm was currently trimmed out with forest green and there was room for a change. I’d gotten them to use the same color in two classrooms and bathrooms, which I’d already painted, so there would be fewer cans of paint remaining and touch-up in the future would be easier. I was heading home a little early because I would be working all day Saturday and Sunday when I was stopped by a member of the committee.
“John…no one likes the color you’ve been painting in the tack room. They’re in there now and want to talk about it before you paint the rest of the room this weekend,” she said.
I walked calmly towards the group. Surely they’d understand that things would look different when the entire room was painted and trimmed out? Surely they would. They didn’t.
“I sure this is the color we picked, John?” one asked.
“Probably not. I’m sure I left the meeting with the paint chip you’d picked, drove to Sherwin Williams and said ‘give me something that will piss everyone off and make them scratch their heads and accuse me of switching colors. I’m sure that’s what I did,” I said.
“Well…I don’t remember picking it and it’s not very attractive,” she said with the others in the group nodding agreement.
I really didn’t care. I wasn’t that far along, but didn’t like the implication that I must have gotten something wrong. “Follow me,” I said, walking out the door and across the hall to the classroom I’d painted a month ago. We walked in the room and I flipped on the lights. “How do you like this color?” I asked.
“This is really nice,” she replied and the others nodded agreement again.
“It’s the same color and came out of the same can I’m using in the tack room,” I said.
Now they were flustered. Collective memory was coming back and they did agree that they’d decided to have the same color in both rooms. Back in the tack room, it was decided I should use the color the professional painters were using to redo our lobby – Outerbanks. I liked the color, having used it only the week before on the kickboards lining the indoor arena.
“That’s a good choice. It looks good in the arena,” I said.
“That’s not the color in the arena,” I was told.
And now my dander was getting up. “Um…okay…it’s not. But the bucket I’m painting from says ‘Outerbanks’ on it and it’s what I called it when I went to Sherwin Williams to pick it up,” I said. I went back to the shop, grabbed a can of the paint in question, brought it back and painted some on the wall.
“So…how do you like this color?” I asked.
“What color is it?” they wanted to know.
“I asked if you liked it. I’ll tell you when you answer the question.”
They agreed it was nice and I told them it was ‘Outerbanks’ the color of the arena. Now there was serious discussion about changing the color of the lobby since it was going to be the same color as the arena, which couldn’t possibly be classy enough. I just kept thinking ‘if you like it, you like it. Go with it’ but what do I know. While they were deciding this, I painted some of the dark brown trim color they’d selected on the door jam.
“What’s that color?” they asked.
“It’s the new trim you picked,” I said.
“I don’t remember picking a new trim,” the leader said.
Okay…now I lost it. “Well…you did. You said it was about time we tried something new around here and picked it from the same swath as the paint you rejected in here,” I said.
Seeing my frustration and probably figuring out that they were really questioning my integrity, that maybe I’d randomly picked colors to paint in the room. Finally, the ice was broken when one brave soul admitted remembering they’d decided to pick a different trim color and this was the one. They didn’t really like it on the wood, but at least were admitting to picking it.
“It’s not dry. When it is, it will look different,” I said.
“And the second coat will give it a different look, too,” she said.
“No – actually this covers really well with one coat. A second coat may not even be necessary,” I said.
“Oh…I’m sure it will need two coats,” she said.
“And I’m sure you’re right because you’ve done so much more painting than me and I really don’t know much about painting at all,” I said with annoyance.
I left the room, but when I returned, they were laughing and apologizing and asking me if I could have Sherwin Williams darken the trim. I made a ‘zip it up’ motion with my finger and thumb across my mouth and they laughed some more. No big deal what color we paint to me, but be willing to admit you’ve made a mistake and move on. Don’t always be looking for someone else to blame. That shit just pisses me off.
I went to the park and did a hard Survival Workout, something I haven’t been doing lately as I prepare for the Adirondacks, but it felt good and was a great way to blow off some steam. Exercise has a calming effect and I needed it.
Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 100-150 bpm.
Calories Burned: 600.
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