Monday, 21 May 2012

Let it Rain?

I was painting a sign outside my Mexican restaurant once, years ago.  It was very expensive high-pigment paint and I was proceeding slowly.  The tin had warned not to let the paint get wet. About mid-afternoon, clouds formed, pregnant with North Carolina rain.  I worked faster, with a growing sense of unease.  I might be hurrying through a doomed project, but I didn’t know what else to do.

A man passed by.  I recognised him as Hey Bob, a respected local builder before his arthritis got him.  I hailed him—“Hey, Bob!”-- and began to explain my fears about the approaching rain.  I explained that the pigment in the paint was specially formulated, but that it might run and streak if it got wet.  Hey Bob listened carefully, nodding at each point.  I was still halfway up the ladder, unable to decide what to do.  At last he said,

          “You know what I’d do if it was me?”

          ”No, tell me,” I said eagerly.

          He grinned. “I’d let it rain.”

I’ve been trying to ever since.

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