I have never claimed to be Mr. Handyman. In fact, if ever I run out of ideas I think are funny, I suspect my answer will be to attempt another bit of handy-mannery. It is usually good for a few laughs. See for instance my electrical adventure, the cleansing of the clogged bathtub, or my burning down of the barbecue. It isn’t that I am an idiot…I just am not correctly designed for proper maintenance tasks.
For Fathers Day I bought my Dad a door. Because he is my Dad, I got him a beautiful wood door. Naturally, I decided the best finish for this wood door would be a clear coat stain. This will come as a complete shock to all none of you who think I am a brilliant handy man, but this would be my first attempt at staining not just a door…but anything. Ever. We can only suspect this will proceed swimmingly well.
The intelligent painter or stainer always begins on a test strip to make sure the color composition is correct. The maniacal do it your selfer with little experience and less common sense goes right to work on the door. So I popped the top on the can of stain and slapped some on the door…
Now, I am blessed to come from a close knit family. I am not sure what stitch was used so don’t ask, but I bet it is not a fancy one. While I was working on the door one of my brothers was standing there chatting with me.
I refer you back to exhibit A, the intelligent door staining individual. He concentrates on the task at hand, has his tools laid out and ready, and his cleaning implements nearby. This interlude is brought to you by purveyors of quality paints and stains everywhere.
While we were talking I was not paying as much attention to the stain job as perhaps I should have. I know this is true because I started to drop the can of stain. Fortunately I caught it before much spilled. Some I caught in my hand, other portions were on my arm. No problem, I kept right on working.
When I finished the first side, I wanted to clean up and let it dry before I flipped the door around. Now, for those of you who do less home repair than me, it might be instructive to realize there are 2 large formats for stain; water based, which cleans up easily and well with water, and oil based, which water only makes stickier and spreads around. I was using an oil based stain. For some inexplicable reason I decided it was water based.
Well, if you thought the Exxon Valdez left an oil slick, you clearly have never visited my Dad’s restroom after I have tried staining a door. Water and oil don’t mix a wise man once said. Apparently he knew what he was talking about.
So my sister in law was enjoined to journey forth in search of paint thinner. Meanwhile I enjoyed the hot sun and the sensation of my arms becoming lacquer-encrusted in ways I had never dreamed were possible. It reminded me of those halcyon days of yore when we were 6 or 8 and splashed each other with glue. Well, except Elmer never taught his glue how to stick to human skin particularly well.
By the time Stanica returned with the paint thinner my arm was as hard as my heart. Well, to make a short story long, I tried to clean the sink with the paint thinner but I still think ducks and seagulls should stay clear of it for a while. Later that night I decided to clean off my arm as well.
It is only fair to point out I have more arm hair than Tammy Fay Bakker had make-up. If you think the carnival barkers on TBN have big hair you have never seen me with my shirt off. And here is a news flash for you; oil base stain and long arm hair are no better an idea than a mullet.
Since the stain was as hard as a rock, you know I am not smart enough to leave it alone. So I started picking at it. It clumps marvelously well. Kind of like self-cleaning kitty litter for the arm. So I have patches of baldness on my arm now. I tried to spell a word with it but my stain spilling technique left something to be desired apparently. It spells nothing and looks like less. All that hair pulling pain for nothing.
I certainly hope Dad enjoys his door. It is a beautiful stain job. And some day when we are all standing around admiring the drips and runs and pieces of arm hair on the door, I fully intend to tell him how great it looks.
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