The Final Coat
I’m referencing the gleaming and glamorous entertainment offered by several home improvement programs, especially those displaying the craft of drywall. Or more appropriately, the foils of drywall.
After a muscle-wrenching day of scaffolding-bound toil, I enjoy a rigorous massage followed by a medium-rare prime rib dinner chased by eye-watering, throat-tightening, and organ-cleansing bourbon (the good stuff). Feeling better, I light an even-burning Cohiba and take a seat; bathed in streaking stars, nocturnal chirps and chlorinated bubblin-hot-tubbin water. This concoctive panacea sounds good, doesn’t it? Yeah, too good, at least for me.
Yet my resourceful and self-preservative quality allows this drywall finisher an easily afforded and greatly enjoyed activity to ease my suffering at the end of an arduous day. I’m referencing the gleaming and glamorous entertainment offered by several (possibly 180 or more) home improvement programs, especially those displaying the craft of drywall. Or more appropriately, the foils of drywall.
As the veined (or vained) construction "stud" stacks two butt joints while the homeowner meekly looks on, ready to faux paint a coffee table, I loudly call my wife, Tyne. I prefer company present when I start my disparaging comments and rhetorical questions.
"I can’t believe I’m witnessing a 4-inch knife being used to coat the tape. Am I actually seeing this? The screws aren’t spotted! Skim the beads with a 5-inch knife? Wait, now they’re skimming? Are they using time-lapsed photography? The screws still aren’t spotted! Why didn’t they stand that sheet up? Tyne, stop, listen, and look. Mr. 'Know-How' is running the angles with a 10-inch broad knife. Is this program’s budget so scant that a credible drywall mechanic couldn’t be employed in an advisory role? (Maybe he never showed)…"
As for appearances, Mr. "No Glue Gun" guru pays more attention to his perfectly feathered coiffe and polished tool belt than his work. Also I’ve yet to hear any bleeped out dialogue, so much for reality.
I find this practice troubling and less than credible. A person in a public arena, portraying himself as a competent, exacting, and acceptable version of a true professional. One who knows the job, performs the job, and accepts compensation for a job well done.
This entertaining ruse would be akin to me, a drywall finisher, attempting to humor and educate the masses by offering penned wit and intelligence; clearly something that should never be allowed. Or read.
After a muscle-wrenching day of scaffolding-bound toil, I enjoy a rigorous massage followed by a medium-rare prime rib dinner chased by eye-watering, throat-tightening, and organ-cleansing bourbon (the good stuff). Feeling better, I light an even-burning Cohiba and take a seat; bathed in streaking stars, nocturnal chirps and chlorinated bubblin-hot-tubbin water. This concoctive panacea sounds good, doesn’t it? Yeah, too good, at least for me.
Yet my resourceful and self-preservative quality allows this drywall finisher an easily afforded and greatly enjoyed activity to ease my suffering at the end of an arduous day. I’m referencing the gleaming and glamorous entertainment offered by several (possibly 180 or more) home improvement programs, especially those displaying the craft of drywall. Or more appropriately, the foils of drywall.
As the veined (or vained) construction "stud" stacks two butt joints while the homeowner meekly looks on, ready to faux paint a coffee table, I loudly call my wife, Tyne. I prefer company present when I start my disparaging comments and rhetorical questions.
"I can’t believe I’m witnessing a 4-inch knife being used to coat the tape. Am I actually seeing this? The screws aren’t spotted! Skim the beads with a 5-inch knife? Wait, now they’re skimming? Are they using time-lapsed photography? The screws still aren’t spotted! Why didn’t they stand that sheet up? Tyne, stop, listen, and look. Mr. 'Know-How' is running the angles with a 10-inch broad knife. Is this program’s budget so scant that a credible drywall mechanic couldn’t be employed in an advisory role? (Maybe he never showed)…"
As for appearances, Mr. "No Glue Gun" guru pays more attention to his perfectly feathered coiffe and polished tool belt than his work. Also I’ve yet to hear any bleeped out dialogue, so much for reality.
I find this practice troubling and less than credible. A person in a public arena, portraying himself as a competent, exacting, and acceptable version of a true professional. One who knows the job, performs the job, and accepts compensation for a job well done.
This entertaining ruse would be akin to me, a drywall finisher, attempting to humor and educate the masses by offering penned wit and intelligence; clearly something that should never be allowed. Or read.
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