You’re not going to believe this but let me tell you of my
apparently pornographic half bath. I bought a condo in a northern suburb of
Suburbville, GA (others call it Atlanta). It was in lousy condition still I
call it home after some insane DIY projects. These gave me bonding time as well
as a way to give spending money without danger of spoiling him, with an
otherwise distant grandson. It went like this:
“Son, would you like to earn some money by painting my half
bath for me? I have the paint and all.”
Eye rolling, fake grimacing, heavy sighing Grandson: “what
size?”
“Quart and a five inch brush.”
Pitying look at me, head shaking and eye rolling Grandson:
“I mean room size?”
“Like a big closet… really.”
GS with a sneering look of authority and might’ve known:”You
didn’t even measure it before buying the paint, did you?” toward my head shake.
Such was our ‘bonding’. I leave it to your imagination as to
the look he gave when he opened the paint and found it to be super-duper high
gloss and pitch black but his disbelieving words were. “Do you have any idea
what you’re doing using this freakish paint?”
Once done, off went my GS with words of urgency of school
work. As I was left to clean the brushes, remove floor tarp and generally act
as clean-up guy I pondered suspiciously his sudden devotion to homework.
Eventually I added my decorative touches. My hobby is
painting but obviously not the room kind. I had my pencil sketches of statues of
artists in front of the Telfair Gallery in Savannah and put them in gilded
frames but really needed another to fill the bathroom shelf. Meanwhile,
WalMart had great plush, black, edged in gold guest towels. Except for another
picture of an artist, I liked the room even better than I’d imagined.
Then I rushed to locate a picture of one more artist. Bingo!
Found the perfect one on, of all places, the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel…
well, no, didn’t really go to the Vatican in Rome but that’s why we have the web. Right? Michelangelo, the guy that ‘painted’ that ceiling, used his
own self portrait as St. Bartholomew. My pencil sketches were white on black
paper and Mickey-O’s was black on white paper. Also my sketches wore their
clothes and Michelangelo was naked as a jaybird but I dared not be dumb enough to
mess with any M painting. Besides I really like the contrast of the one white
among four blacks. I was thrilled but not without fear that my GS would really
roll his eyes and worse when he saw it.
Tried phones, Texts, Emails to get GS to view my finished
room but without success. Soon his Dad decided he had no room for a family
heirloom resulting in my looking out my window to see GS. ROLLING said
heirloom, a round table, on the concrete to my condo. Felt the need of
Aunt Pity Pat’s smelling salts but being more the Prissy type tried to appear calm. Like all teenagers he had more like himself in tow. He briefly
introduced me to friends who’d helped him with the chore while I resolved this
was not the time to unveil my finished bathroom. I offered them glasses of tea after
they placed the table as directed. They were leaving when one emerged from the
bath with a red face, painfully resisting the urge to burst out laughing. He whispered
urgently in his friends’ ears and suddenly GS ducked into the bath. He emerged
with eyes rolling like they’d entered the Daytona 500 and I braced myself.
“Baxter, you’re a dork. Next year when you’re a senior like
me you’ll take Ms. Carr’s Art Appreciation class and learn nudes are NOT porno,
you dweeb! Nudes ’ve been around since fifth century B.C. To the Greeks and
Romans the nude body represented Humanity and depending on how shown represents
heroism, vulnerability, purity, idealism and that kinda stuff.Those remotely sexy
are meant to arouse only the mind. That’s not porno! That’s a great Renaissance
artist plastered among a lot of other nudes including God on the inside of the
best known church in the world, you Neanderthal.”
GS was still making his point as they left. I was now the
one rolling my eyes… mostly heavenward in relief and thanks for education.
