Whoa! Didja get the numbers off that truck?!?

November 09, 2005 - 6:22 a.m.

Stick Guy

See that guy up there? That's me. The evolution of the character above the text has been that of johnniev at five, then at 17. The next progression might have driven off all five of my readers, so I spared you all with a stick figure. Look at them legs!

It started as a slash and burn attempt at image maps. Those things are easy for propeller-heads, but daunting for one like me, especially one who does image maps once every three years. Besides, this page now has a more contemporary look, and as my reader(s) know I'm all about the contemporary.

Guess what I'm doing?!? Varnish! Er, polyurethane. I haven't bought paint stripper in awhile. Nowadays they lace a smell into it. It's kinda hard to describe. The front end of the smell is that of dead fish (the nose in winemaking terms.) It blossoms and then devolves into a smell with which you wouldn't want to make friends. I wondered what cruel trick they were playing on me, where's my old faithful volatile smell? Then I remembered the pastimes of pre-teens in search of a head rush. Anti-huffing smell. I could still catch a whiff of it as I was doing a final wipe down on the wood with denatured alcohol. Thankfully, the alcohol still smelled normal. That was good enough for a three hour party. We had a going away party for some brain cells.

Not really. But I've always has a fondness for the smell of petroleum distillates. I've always felt that when you crack the seal on it, and inhale those heady fumes, that you're about to do some work. I guess it's the memories of my dad's basement projects. The smell of sawdust in the air always meant something was about to take shape.

I've got the third coat on the drawer fronts. They're done. Doors have two damn sides.

the last one -*- the next one