With the “Compassion” exhibit over, Dana and I went to Joan’s Fourth Street duplex and joined her work crew (after I picked up my collage from EKU and we split a quick Chinese lunch). We tackled the kitchen wood-staining job and then I did various other tasks—took some steel wool to the leaded-glass window, primed some faux paneling in the foyer, put a second coat on the kick-plate, and touched up the mantle edging. We laughed when the disposal of a used paint roller triggered the unforgotten, ever-dissociated “Makko-Bird” declaration. The day flew by and I was totally beat by the time I realized I should quit. Undoubtedly my exhaustion was intensified by the fumes, plus the crash from a wickedly sweet bliss bar that Dana brought back from Starbucks. Joan treated us to a late Mexican dinner and we sang “Happy Birthday” to Mombo over the cell phone.
These must be the “good old days.”