The Living Years by Mike & the Mechanics
Every generation
Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations
Come beating on your door
I know that I’m a prisoner
To all my Father held so dear
I know that I’m a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years
Crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got
You say you just don’t see it
He says it’s perfect sense
You just can’t get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defense
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye
So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
It’s the bitterness that lasts
So Don’t yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different date
And if you don’t give up, and don’t give in
You may just be O.K.
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye
I wasn’t there that morning
When my Father passed away
I didn’t get to tell him
All the things I had to say
I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I’m sure I heard his echo
In my baby’s new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye

This week was much ado about followers, following, not following, the courtesy refollow and the likes. I had some fun chats this week, but because of space, most of them didn’t make the update. Oh, and @redclaydiaries and I had some weird conversations. Shocking, I know…

The best of me (or not) on the twitter this week:

@MichaelDPerkins Ah, yes! The “my tweets are educational route”. Nice! (in reply to MichaelDPerkins RT @katdish: Please RT: Follow @katdish! Why? Well, why not? //I did & get vocab lessons now #cheetoes)

Please RT: Follow @katdish! Why? Well, why not?

But let’s make it snappy before he checks his Twitter account shall we?

I think he would really dig that. You want to make @billycoffey happy don’t you?

Hey! For the first time in months, I’m w/in single digits behind @billycoffey in followers. Wonder if I could pass him up today.

@Doallas We drink whatever’s on tap usually. (in reply to Doallas @katdish Just think: esoteric knowledge for cocktail conversation (or conversation over whatever is drunk in Texas)

According to @mrtweets, my influential followers include @johncmaxwell and @tremendousnews. I like to mix things up, people.

And now I must visit Mr. Tweet & find “nice folks who are following you but you are not following back” because I’m nice like that.

@RobinMArnold Because if you’re not, color me impressed.

@RobinMArnold Are you on a riding mower? (in reply to RobinMArnold Right now, I have at least 5 tweeps mowing their lawn. Tweeting whilst mowing, isn’t that illegal?)

I still follow some folks who aren’t following me back, but mostly not.

Snort! >RT @MeMo07: @katdish Whew….I feel like I just got a rose 🙂

@PeterPollock You know I cain’t quit you Peter!

I just unfollowed over 200 people on twitter. But if you can read this tweet, you’re not one of them.

@TchrEric Oh, who cares what @billycoffey likes? He’s on vacation

@Brian_Russell How about, “Thanks for your continued support. Like me on Facebook!” (in reply to Brian_Russell @katdish If it HAD been automated, you’d want to check your settings cause that was LATE.)

@Brian_Russell That DM was dang funny. in reply to Brian_Russell

@Brian_Russell You’d better not be talking about me! (in reply to Brian_Russell I’m not saying who… but someone is a jerk.)

@Brian_Russell Snort! (in reply to Brian_Russell Am I the only one that HATES automated DM’s for following someone? WE KNOW IT’S NOT YOU.)

@givingupperfect Oh, who needs them? Lay down the unfollow hammer! (in reply to givingupperfect @katdish I was inspired to check out who’s not following me by your tweets. And now I’m depressed… :P)

@RachelleGardner Your dog is not following me. I’m mildly offended.

@Brian_Russell Well I figured that. Don’t make me google, Brian. (in reply to Brian_Russell @katdish There’s some programs online.)

Is there an easy way to see who you’re following that are not following back?
@RobinMArnold I’m coming to Atlanta, @redclaydiaries is knitting me a bed out of dog hair, & @charliewetzel will cook. There you go. (in reply to RobinMArnold @redclaydiaries @katdish And I apologize, I didn’t have the umph to roll back to seen all your fun. So much clicking. I’m tired.)

@redclaydiaries Ugh! I’m getting itchy! STOP IT! (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish Whaaaat? U mean u won’t take it home & treasure it forever? Maybe I should knit u a Callie sweater…)

@redclaydiaries After my stay, you could sell it on Regretsy. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish Let me knit one up for you after I vacuum up the last of Callie! #herghostlivesonthebasementstairs)

@redclaydiaries Ooo! May I sleep on a bed of dog hair? (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish Oooo! Let me check! U can stay with us & my personal chef can cook for you!)

@redclaydiaries I had a dream that we all had dinner w/Donald Miller & I told him I thought his new book was a little whiny.

@redclaydiaries @prodigaljohn is speaking somewhere here this summer, but he won’t tell me where… (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish I know! I need to find an excuse to go to TX. Any conferences in Houston that I need to attend?)

@redclaydiaries #layersofmeaning? Oh that is RICH!

RT @redclaydiaries: @katdish @billycoffey They could be pelting him with snowballs… #layersofmeaning

Yes! I think that’s it! RT @redclaydiaries: @katdish What, with SEALs chasing a cowboy? @billycoffey

@redclaydiaries Nah. He wants something Navy SEALish. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish Abso-freakin-lutely fabulous. How bout a cowboy on a snowdrift…?)

@redclaydiaries Sadly, that was rejected. But how cool would that be? Big red monkey butt w/”Mom” in scrolly lettering? Fabulous. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish Oooo… Big. Red. Monkey. Butt?)

@redclaydiaries Yes. A mutual friend of ours is trying to find the perfect design for a tattoo. Told him I might design one. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish Fully insane. But the tatts are cool.)

My niece the aspiring artist just drew this on the back of a menu. http://twitpic.com/1xocjn

Okay. Time to go to the big butt Catfish buffet!

@buzzbyannies Thanks for THAT visual! (in reply to buzzbyannies @katdish I killed it with my thong. #flipflop snort!)

@buzzbyannies Really? Those are called pigs in a blanket here. Twitter is so educational. (in reply to buzzbyannies @katdish Oooh, luhv catfish. Luhv. Southern Hushpuppies, not so much. Hushpuppies here are hotdogs in a crescent roll. Dig those.)

This tan & white one is Bo. He’s like a dog, only smaller. http://twitpic.com/1xe7sj

Watching paint dry. Literally. http://twitpic.com/1x0yyo

Off to paint the town red, or a dining room green…One of those…

@BridgetChumbley I’m a fast typer. No one can take that away from me. Well, unless they smashed my fingers I guess. (in reply to BridgetChumbley @katdish Look at you… Spot 1 AND 2… Nice!)

Watching Billy the Exterminator on A&E: Rednecks + venomous snakes = quality television

RT @ryanmer: How do people watch soccer games w/o drinking? That’s like making a grilled cheese sandwich w/o cheese. Or bread. Or drinking.

Just received an email about the smartypants blog saying they were “super impressed by its design & content”. Clearly, this is spam.

***

BTW – @billycoffey still has more followers than I do. I would never suggest you UNFOLLOW him, but if your dog was to unfollow him, I think I could live with that. I mean come on–he almost never has conversations with dogs. On twitter. Anymore.

Inspiration comes from many places. I’ve been a long time fan of Sarah McLachlan, and Angel has always been a favorite of mine. But it was not until I heard an interview with her on the radio yesterday that I learned the inspiration for this song. It seems she had been touring for 2 years straight and heard of the drug overdose of a member of the band Smashing Pumpkins. Reflecting upon how life on the road robs you of yourself, she penned the lyrics.

But you don’t have to be a touring recording artist for life to rob you of joy; to make you feel as though your dreams are beyond your grasp; to feel isolated and alone even when surrounded by people. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, I pray that you reach out to an angel. They walk among us–and we are each other’s angels. Reach out, not in.

Angel by Sarah McLachlan

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack
It don’t make no difference
Escaping one last time
It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.” ~ Hebrews 13:2-3

image courtesy of photobucket.com

I have resisted the urge to write about this topic for a few reasons, but I happened to be watching a little train wreck of a show on TLC called Toddler and Tiaras yesterday afternoon, and I’m sorry–but I’ve gotta get my rant on. The quality of the this video is not great, but it was the only one I found that would allow embedding. If you’ve never seen the show, this gives you a brief introduction. This disturbs me on so many levels:

I’ve never been a fan of beauty pageants. One could argue they provide scholarships, platforms for worthy causes, and that the interview and talent portions are important. But I don’t ever recall seeing any homely gals on there rallying for world peace. Let’s be honest–the prettiest girl wins. Which is fine with me–just don’t pretend it’s anything more noble than that.

Even though I don’t care for Miss America, Miss USA, et al, at least the contestants are old enough to understand what they’re involved in. Such is not the case with these child pageants. On one episode I watched yesterday, the youngest contestant was three days old. Yes, they have an infant category. I’ve watched several episodes of this series, and I have yet to personally hear a parent say that their daughter didn’t love being in these pageants. I’ve also heard mothers say if their daughters wanted to quit they would allow them to do so. But I can’t help but think many of these girls would equate not competing with disappointing their moms, and I wonder if many of the moms aren’t trying to live vicariously through their daughters. I’m trying to understand what the point of these pageants are. One of the pageants they featured on the show yesterday had a grand prize of $600. A pageant dress can cost around $1,200. Then there’s hairpieces, make-up, flippers (false teeth the girls wear over their own teeth), tanning, manicures, pedicures, dance classes, pageant coaches, etc. I’m sorry. I just don’t get it.

Here’s a quote from one of the judges: “I’m looking at the little girl–not the hair, or the fancy costumes or the make-up.”

Oh, really? Then what’s with the hair and the fancy costumes and the make-up? My 8 year old came home from a friend’s house the other day wearing eye liner and it really bothered me. I want her to enjoy being a little girl while she’s got the chance. There’s plenty of time for make-up when she’s older. Please explain to me why it’s okay to spray tan a 5 year old, put make-up and false eyelashes on her, and parade her around a stage in a bikini and an evening gown that costs more than my son’s braces?

If you want to have child beauty pageants, then fine. But enough with the false teeth, pancake make-up and spray tans. They’re not miniature adults. They’re children. And they grow up much too fast as it is.

I could say a whole lot more about how these little girls are made up to look like women, but I won’t. Because despite how some people may view them, they are still children, and I want to respect that.

This post was originally written for and appeared on my friend Brian Russell’s website a few months back.

I had just finished reading the book The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. It’s about overcoming and avoiding the roadblocks we face in any creative endeavor.

Inspired by what I read in this book, I posted an open letter from a muse. Perhaps she sounds familiar to you. Perhaps not. Some muses are more demanding than others…

An Open Letter

It’s me here. We need to talk. I’m feeling neglected. Yes, I understand that your life seems overwhelming. Your child is sick, your spouse needs more of your time, cutbacks at work mean more work for you. Add the beginnings of what very well may be an ulcer and mounting bills to the mix and you have all the elements of a first class physical and emotional breakdown.

Now, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I don’t care. To me, they’re simply excuses; reasons to succumb to your fears. Ignore me at your own peril. Every day that goes by when you refuse to meet with me is a day I will wreak havoc on your life. I care not about your sickness and your busy schedule. I exist only to be satisfied by your offering. Curse me or bless me. But remember that you created me.

The white canvas, the blank journal page, the blinking cursor on your computer screen, the potter’s wheel, the unfinished song which sits quietly beside your guitar or piano, and countless other places. Where will I be?

Don’t indulge yourself with the illusion that you don’t know where to find me. You know where I’ll be. And I’ll meet you there.

Relentlessly yours,

Your Muse

“There is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.”

~George Bernard Shaw

From Merriam Webster:

Passion:
(4b) intense, driving or overmastering feeling or conviction
(5b) a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object or concept

Compassion:
sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress with a desire to alleviate it

Some of you probably know the story of how I happened to stumble across a blog called What I Learned Today a little over a year ago. You may even know how an offer from me of a weekly guest post developed into a working partnership between Billy Coffey and me. What you may not know, or fully understand, is why I offered to help Billy. In a nutshell, it’s because I have compassion for his passion: writing.

If you haven’t already done so, I would recommend reading his post today: Compassion in the Cold. It give a glimpse into just how long he’s been pursuing this almost lifelong passion of his. It is a story of one of the many crossroads in his writing career. Our chance meeting through the blogosphere (if you want to call it that–I don’t believe it was) is another.

Shortly after he started guest posting for me, he mentioned to me via email that he had a manuscript he was trying to get published. He had had several rejection letters from agents and publishers, many of them telling him the same thing: You need to build a platform. What I Learned Today was that platform. Again, many of you may already know this part of the story.

Now here’s the part you may not know. By the time I offered the weekly guest spot on my blog, Billy Coffey was once again ready to give up his dreams of ever being published. Billy is a strong, determined person, but rejection and obscurity after years of trying can wear down even the best of us. Having read his manuscript, there was no way I was going to let that happen if I could help it.

So help I did, and continue to do so. Because it was the right thing to do. Because a world without his stories would be a little bit darker and a little less hopeful.

I’ll be the first to admit that I had no idea what I was doing when I first agreed to help him. It’s been a learning experience for both of us. But I know one thing for certain: that small, still voice telling me to offer my help was not my intuition, it was God’s voice, and I have seen His hand over and over this past year:  Billy signed with well known literary agent Rachelle Gardner, signed a two book deal with FaithWords, and has received generous praise for his debut novel, Snow Day, including the following from his childhood hero:

“Everybody needs a snow day! To slow down and take a breath of what is really important.” (Don Mattingly, 1985 American League MVP)

The latest bit of exciting news came last week. Billy sent me a link to FaithWords Fall/Winter catalog, which just so happens to have the cover art from Snow Day gracing its cover. Here’s the link:FaithWords Fall 2010/Winter 2011 catalog.

If you scroll through the entire catalog, you will find on page nine a description of first time author Billy Coffey’s novel Snow Day nestled between football legend James Brown’s new book and New York Times best selling author Philip Yancey latest offering. I’d say those guys are in very good company!

This is not a post about what I did to help out a struggling writer. Billy Coffey’s work is well deserving of all the attention it has received and will continue to receive. I write this because I want to challenge you. If you know someone who has a dream, and can’t seem to get over the hump by him or herself, offer to help them. If you believe in what they are doing, have compassion for their passion. You may just find, as I did, that helping others is a passion of your own.

“There comes that mysterious meeting in life when someone acknowledges who we are and what we can be, igniting the circuits of our highest potential.” ~ Rusty Berkus

This post is part of the blog carnival on Compassion, hosted by Bridget Chumbley. To read more, please visit her site.

The truth is this—men are just as vain as women, and maybe even more so. We look into mirrors, too. We primp and trim and flex. We do. Even me.

We understand the rules of inevitability. Time will march on and drag us with it. Hair will turn gray and fall out. The six pack will turn into a keg. And for the most part, we’re good with that. The point isn’t to stand in the breach and beat back the ravages of our days. The point is to walk with it gracefully.

Here’s another commonality between men and women—they’re both easily insulted when it comes to looks. I’m not talking about things like, “Dang, you’re ugly.” We don’t mind that. Things like that actually make us laugh.

I’m talking more this: “Dang, you’ve really let yourself go.”

Ouch.

From my own personal research, this is the single most destructive thing you can say to anyone, man or woman, from the age of about thirty-five on. No one wants to hear that they’ve let themselves go. They want to hang on and keep up. They want to master and not be mastered.

And yet as I write this, I’m about to do just that.

I’m letting myself go.

By the time the sun rises over the mountains in my front yard, I’ll be heading over them. For one very short and much-needed week, I’m trading country for ocean.

It’s a good trade.

Family legend states that my ancestors were fishermen and voyagers, brave men who sought refuge from a crowded world by fleeing to lonely seas. And even though time and circumstance has put the mountains in my blood, the ocean still calls to me. It doesn’t tell me to relax in the sand with a good book.

It tells me to let myself go.

It tells me to walk down to the shoreline and leave my stress and worries where the tides can whisk them away. To feel the salt air grip me and wrap me into itself to form a boundary both thin and unbreakable to keep the nasties away.

That’s why I go to the ocean.

Not merely to rest, but to find my better me.

One of these days, I’m going to figure out a way to bring that better me home. I keep trying and I keep getting better at it, but I just can’t seem to make it stick. Sooner or later, the rhythms of the waves begin to fade into the sound of wind through the trees, the salt air turns sweet with honeysuckle, and I realize I’m back home.

And then I think that maybe I’m not. Maybe this place, this small town nestled at the bottom of ancient mountains, is merely where I live.

Maybe my home is indeed among the lonely seas of my ancestors, where there is freedom and wind and sail.

Maybe not.

Because at some point those very ancestors dreamed of a day when they could put away their nets and trade their dreary lives for better ones in a faraway land where freedom was real.

No more Irish winters spent in bitter waters and tossing seas. They wanted the easier seasons and the fertile soil of the Shenandoah Valley.

Here I am dreaming of their reality, while generations ago they were dreaming of mine.

I wonder of us. Not just of them and me, but you and me. We are all wanderers at heart, always longing for more and new, when perhaps if we just let ourselves go, we’d find that less and the same is all we need.

To read more from Billy Coffey, visit him at his blog What I Learned Today and follow him on twitter at @BillyCoffey

The following is an excerpt from The God Who Smokes: Scandalous Meditations on Faith by Timothy J. Stoner:

Blessing

As faithful image bearers (artists, but saints first),
may you reflect not only the creation,
but its beautiful and good Creator.
May you embrace your true calling
to humbly serve the glorious One who promises you glory.
May you accept and acknowledge
the wound your faithful friend has inflicted,
and may you in friendship and loyalty inflict it on others.
May your art be worship.
May your worship be art.
May you afflict the comfortable with jolts of inconsolable joy.
May you call forth the good, the beautiful, the eternal hope of
your true city.
And when people step back from your painting,
put down your novel,
or leave the theater,
may they leave having been fatally stabbed,
inconsolably wrecked with a longing for home.
And may you reflect faithfully the face of your Father
who strides through the galaxies with a brush in his hand.

It was a very light week on the twitter for me. I had my first painting gig in quite some time, so I was away from my computer and my phone quite a bit. So this update is short and sweet–Just like me only completely different…

The best of me (or not) on the twitter this week:

@billycoffey Well now. What am I supposed to do with that? (in reply to billycoffey Hey @katdish, Astros play the Yanks this weekend. I’m sorry in advance.)

@mxings Thanks. @billycoffey was being writerly, so I figured I’d be painterly. (in reply to mxings RT @katdish: Painting blues http://bit.ly/92jatJ // I liked the #ampainting tag from this morning : ) first *snort* of my day)

Finished painting. Another day, another dollar. Adjusted for inflation, of course.

@curtharding Thanks for the #FF. 4 out of 5 dentists agree! (in reply to curtharding Following these folks will whiten your teeth. @johnthebogwaan @katdish @KristenBaird @cduncan75 @joeljmiller)

My one and only #FF: @lainiegallagher: Because she’s all up in my grill, and yet I find her strangely delightful!

Dang it!….hiccups!

@JeffHolton I love that song! I wore out that Cure CD. (in reply to JeffHolton RT @katdish: @JeffHolton It’s not easy being me. Oh, who am I kidding? It rocks. // Why can’t I be you? …Hey, that’d make a great song!!)

@JeffHolton It’s not easy being me. Oh, who am I kidding? It rocks. (in reply to JeffHolton @katdish Stuff it, Richards!! Oh, er, I mean…wow, I’m happy for you. :))

@JeffHolton Oh…is that supposed to be imaginary? That’s pretty much my world. (in reply to JeffHolton In my imaginary world, I don’t have a full-time job. I just blog and write as the muse strikes. And people give me food and schwag for it.)

I suppose “early” is a relative term for a teenager.

My son told me last night he wanted to get up bright & early to go to the driving range. It’s 10:30 & he’s still asleep.

@curtharding TMI, Curt…TMI. (in reply to curtharding The World Cup brings up memories of my dating life…I had trouble scoring too.)

@jamieworley Not yet. But the day is young! (in reply to jamieworley @katdish 9hrs after you asked, I’m finally answering! 😛 I’m good. How ’bout you? Anyone fallen off your house lately, or is that just me?)

@muchl8r Good morning Sunshine! (in reply to muchl8r Fake-happy morning tweet. Good at sounding positive even though I slept like crap. Heaven forbid anyone sound contentious.)

“Do everything with excellence. It’ll make Jesus proud and keep me from killing you.” ~ @muchl8r

@lainiegallagher It’s your world, I’m just trying to live in it.

@lainiegallagher Snort! You know, I would go to considerable lengths to have a bag printed w/an E, just to drive you nuts. (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish Liar!)

@lainiegallagher Not on the bag I have. Mine has an E (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish #1, the plural of Cheeto is Cheetos. No E.)

@lainiegallagher cruh-doodles? Are those like store brand Cheetoes? (in reply to lainiegallagher Ever have ice suddenly shift in your cup in a silent room? It just scared the cruh-doodles out of me.)

And that’s why you bloggy love me! RT @lainiegallagher: @duane_scott That’s okay. No one is as random as @katdish.

@gyoung9751 I’m here now, Glynn. All is right with the world again. (in reply to gyoung9751 @katdish Thanks for the RT. We’ve had no rants, no GAAAs, no clown alerts, no sky mall catalogs — it’s been miserable.)

(crickets chirping)

Hey! WHO MISSED ME? (Please do not crash the twitter with your responses)

@PeterPollock Snort! I’m finding your british wit delightful this afternoon. Maybe it’s the paint fumes. (in reply to PeterPollock @katdish it was a few years ago)

@PeterPollock yes. Been making gifts. When’s your birthday again? (in reply to PeterPollock @katdish You’ve been painting poop all day long?)

Been painting all day long. Pooped!

Just finished loading up my jeep with all my painting stuff. Forgot how much stuff you have to lug around!
Decided to accept a painting job. Went to quote one room, which has now turned into 3 rooms. Sigh. Guess I’m a painter again

I’ve had a head cold that has now settled into my chest. Pardon me while I go cough up a lung…

Today, if things go as planned, I will finish up a two day painting job. This is day three. If I wanted to be completely unbiased and forthcoming, I could admit that it’s been quite a while since my last painting gig and I’m not as fast a painter as I used to be, and to a certain extent that would be accurate—but mostly not.

No, the main reason this job has taken longer than it should have is cheap home builders. I’ve painted rooms in modestly priced new homes and homes that are not at all modestly priced. It matters not. Without exception, every wall where I’ve painted over the builder paint is the same:

Cheap, watered down and sprayed on.

If you’ve ever painted over builder paint, you may already know what I’m about to tell you. The walls will soak up the paint more in some places than in others because the walls beneath are unevenly coated.
When we had our current home built, I requested a satin finish. I did this for a couple of reasons. First, I don’t like flat paint—you can’t clean it. But more importantly, you can’t spray on a good quality satin finish paint – it clogs up the sprayer. It has to be applied with a roller and a brush. They didn’t want to oblige my request, but I pointed out to them that if they were going to call themselves custom home builders, then the home should be built to the buyer’s specifications. I had them there. Even though I’ve painted over most of their paint, I’m still glad we paid the extra money to have them paint the house the way it should be painted.

The superintendant in charge of the construction of our house confided in me after the painting was completed that the builder would no longer agree to a painting upgrade as I requested for other customers. It was too labor intensive and took too much time.

I realize most of you could give a rat’s patooty about cheap paint and cheaper contractors. But it’s bigger than that.

There are thousands of painters in my little corner of the world alone who go to work every day doing a job they know is substandard. I don’t blame the workers. They’re just doing what they’re told; what everybody else is doing. I have the luxury of being an independent contractor. My only boss is the person I happen to be working for at the time.

I was raised to believe (and still do believe) that anything worth doing is worth doing well.
Am I ridiculously old fashioned to believe this? That reputation and honor are more important than a job completed quickly, cheaply and for the maximum profit margin?

I suppose I should be happy that I can make money covering up other people’s less than excellent work. I’m grateful for the jobs, but it still makes me a bit disappointed that it wasn’t done right in the first place.

Sigh…

It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it.” ~ Steven Wright