Swimmin Frog

Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Year 5 and Tangerine Paint
Brian Timm was my first friend. As I am fast approaching my 32nd year on earth, I often find myself drifting back to simpler times in my life. Lately, the time machine dial is set to "Stephanie: Year 5". Most of that year has been blocked out, but I do remember Brian Timm. His toe-headed image is stuck in my mind where my favorite memories live. We were neighbors. We were inseparable. We didn't care that there was a gender difference. We didn't care that our families were completely different. My family was falling apart and my house was full of crazy. He was my escape to normal.

We were cohorts in some major crimes. Our spree started with an enticing can of orange paint. I remember the look of the can and the smell as it sat on the steps of the home next door beckoning us to come and investigate. We were attached at the hip so I can't tell you for sure who noticed it first, but we ran like the wind to it. Some silly adult in all their hastiness left the lid off and the circa 1970's bathroom tangerine orange looked like a pool of melted sherbet. To this day, I fully blame those careless painters for what transpired next on that sunny day in year 5 of my life.

It plays out like a slow motion scene in a movie… My head slowly turns towards Brian and I give him an evil little look which he completely understands. With a stifled giggle, he hands me a big clean brush. I plunge the bristles deep into the can to capture the beautiful orange hue. The paint drips a little, but I quickly move to my canvas. Mimicking the great painters of the past, I brush back and forth creating a 3'x 3' splotch on the gleaming white siding.

Years later, I still can't tell you our motive. Was it to be malicious? Was it to be helpful? Or, were we just simply curious? Whatever the motive, I am glad I have the memory… and some incriminating photos thanks to my Mom.