Sunday, July 18, 2010

No No, Trust Me, It's Gonna Be Great!

I promise I'll be better. I post more. All of the witty things I think of during the day, I will jot down. Starting tomorrow. But for now, there's this.

I had a dream Friday night that Al, our contractor, decided on his own to paint the house purple. And when I begged him to stop, he said, "No no, trust me--it's gonna be GREAT!" and kept painting it purple.

I hate purple.

I'm reasonably sure he won't do this. His crew just spent three days sanding the entire thing by hand. All of the gingerbread-work, all of the cutouts, on ladders, by hand. I just wanted to give them all hugs, especially the one guy who managed to shoot himself in the hand with a nail gun last week (and then got shot in the same hand with a framing nail by someone else about the same time). But my grasp of Spanish is tenuous, and I didn't want to have to explain that the gringa lady wants only to bring them snacks and means them no harm. I'd probably end up speaking Russian mid-sentence and then none of us would understand what the hell was going on.

They're coming back at the end of the week to do the actual painting. I think Al is worried the result is going to be too austere--it's going to be white, cream and black, the stairs will be gray and the porch ceiling blue. Our friend Grady has declared the black is to be used sparingly. "Think of it as eyeliner for your house," he said. "But what if my house is kind of a slut and wants to wear too much make-up?" I asked him. "Then we should just paint the door come (expletive deleted) me red, and call it a day," he said.

I had coffee this morning with The Cuddly Hero of the Masses, Salinas Mayor Dennis Donohue. (I'd like to trademark the Cuddly Hero name, but it dates back to the early 90s, when John Garamendi was insurance commissioner and I was covering civil courts in LA -- the Daily News reporter called him that, so it's not original.) Annnnnnyway ... as he and I were parting company, Chuck came up and asked him what we had to do to get an urban chicken ordinance passed in the City Council.

Because chickens? We're having them, ordinance or no. But Chuck, being the law-and-order type, wants to do it by the book.

Dennis flinched when we mentioned it.

"It will be easier to get a medical marijuana ordinance passed around here," he said, running away.


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