A Slippery Slope
Over the weekend the wife and I blah blah raked up leaves blah cleaned the gutters blah blah new planting bed blah, front yard this, back yard that. We did manage to get a lot done which could be of mild interest to the garden variety houseblog reader, but I don't want to tell you about that. Something happened over the weekend that was far more important. And it happened last night.
We went to go watch a movie yesterday evening - "Man of the Year", with Robin Williams and Christopher Walken. It was okay, it had a few good laughs in parts but the plot development was jerky and some of the dialogue was just plain stupid; but you're not here for a film review. The point of my story is that in one of the interior scenes (when Laura Linney's finally talking to Robin Williams re: the election) I spent the whole scene looking at the room decor and paint colour. Now to most this wouldn't be earth-shattering, but two months ago I didn't know my taupe from my tangerine, and it was bliss. Now I'm turning into a home renovation version of that kid from The Sixth Sense - "I see window treatments", in a husky whisper. At a crucial stage in the plot of a movie that I had up to this point enjoyed, I missed the whole conversation they were having because I was admiring the shade of terracotta/burnt orange/whatever that was on the wall behind them and thinking how great it would look above the fireplace.
Not that I think there's anything effeminate about simply being able to tell that two colours work together or what looks good somewhere. All I'm saying is that it's a slippery slope, my friends, and it's got me worried. It starts with admiring a chandelier or the placement of a potted plant in a movie, but next it'll be "oh, just one more hour of The Life Network, or "doesn't Rachel Ray's hair look nice today?", or "has anyone got a good recipe for Quiche Lorraine?". This whole house renovation business is more dangerous than I thought. I've gotta be vigilant. I'm off to the Man Room now to blast some ZZ Top, sand my trim and maybe punch something.
We went to go watch a movie yesterday evening - "Man of the Year", with Robin Williams and Christopher Walken. It was okay, it had a few good laughs in parts but the plot development was jerky and some of the dialogue was just plain stupid; but you're not here for a film review. The point of my story is that in one of the interior scenes (when Laura Linney's finally talking to Robin Williams re: the election) I spent the whole scene looking at the room decor and paint colour. Now to most this wouldn't be earth-shattering, but two months ago I didn't know my taupe from my tangerine, and it was bliss. Now I'm turning into a home renovation version of that kid from The Sixth Sense - "I see window treatments", in a husky whisper. At a crucial stage in the plot of a movie that I had up to this point enjoyed, I missed the whole conversation they were having because I was admiring the shade of terracotta/burnt orange/whatever that was on the wall behind them and thinking how great it would look above the fireplace.
Not that I think there's anything effeminate about simply being able to tell that two colours work together or what looks good somewhere. All I'm saying is that it's a slippery slope, my friends, and it's got me worried. It starts with admiring a chandelier or the placement of a potted plant in a movie, but next it'll be "oh, just one more hour of The Life Network, or "doesn't Rachel Ray's hair look nice today?", or "has anyone got a good recipe for Quiche Lorraine?". This whole house renovation business is more dangerous than I thought. I've gotta be vigilant. I'm off to the Man Room now to blast some ZZ Top, sand my trim and maybe punch something.
posted by Chris at 10:31 AM
The Sunday Morning Breakfast Blog
13 Comments:
You've got to warn a guy before you go off and say something like, "I see window treatments." I was laughing so hard I nearly blew coffee out my nose. Probably too much information.
You're right, it is an insidious disease. My personal weakness is for built-in furniture. I've actually had conversations with my mother-in-law like this:
Me: How was Capote?
MIL: It was okay, but you should see the built-in bookcases in this one scene.
Me: Really? Can I borrow it?
If the sanding doesn't work, tearing something up with a sledge hammer or a chainsaw are good therapy.
Hmmm. You should get a friend to call when the built-in furniture need hits. Like an ex-kitchen cabinet maker maybe.
I may just have to force myself through Capote again now, darn you.
Glad you liked the post.
What drives me crazy is when I can't just walk around and admire buildings or architecture anymore (although I still do). Now I see how well said buildings have been tuckpointed or what kind of gutters they have or if there is wood rot. Ignorance is bliss folks. Ignorance is also a decrepit and poorly maintained home it seems.
Too true Jocelyn.
I never got around to saying it at your site but I love your radiators. I've never seen anything like them. Just beautiful. I've seen similar at other Chicago houseblogs - is it like a Chicago standard? If so, man, what a standard.
I've just reread my comment to Jocelyn. See what I mean? Slippery!
Yeah, this is why I leave my husband out of the home stuff. 'Cause I don't have space for any "Man Room" around here to take the edge off!
Wait till you have a kid and start doing it during cartoons! I posted a while back (early or mid last year) about watching the room decor in old Betty Boop cartoons. I especially like how "Grampy" deals with blight!
Until houseblogs.net came along I thought I was the only straight guy with a sense of decor!
Aack, I totally do it, too. But worse, it's often when I am over my friends homes. They will be in the middle of explaining something to me and I will respond by asking them what their living room paint color is. Worrisome!
*giggle*
I adore your sense of humor.
Poppy, you're my favouritist reader.
That is unless Angelina Jolie's reading. If so, Poppy, I'm sorry but you're bumped, and Angie, get in touch. We should do lunch. Mandy says Brad can come.
This past halloween my wife and I watched Saw II, and spent most of the time commenting on how nice the trim was in the death house. Near the end of the movie, we got excited to see what type of faucets were on the infamous claw-foot tub...
Truly sad...
michael: that's saying something if you're doing that in the middle of Saw II. It may just be saying a little more about the movie though.
Heh. A friend sent some pics of a nekkid blonde with big boobs in a kitchen, and I studied the picture intently to see how the backspash mated with the countertop.
No hope. None at all.
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