
Goodbye, my Old Friend.
We’ve had some really good times together.
You helped me paint the shed with white stripes and a green door, so that it looked more like a barn than a giant piece of metal junk. The shed was so happy that violets now grow next to it.
You took the pain of color spray-and-pray out of the use of the can for me, any time I asked. A noble cause if there ever was one. You even aimed true at a wasp for me one day. There is nothing as confused or ridiculous as a wasp painted white… or green. I could not have done a better job with a brush.
Good times.
But no good thing goes untouched by bad people, does it? The word in the ‘hood is that the twerps who spoil it for the rest of us got the word about you and your kind, and made war on walls and parked cars and even poor, innocent Divvy bikes and someone’s darling, precious Harley. There is no good thing that can’t be turned sour or misused, is there?
Those spray cans have now been changed. The nozzles are no longer amenable to your attachment to them. The marriage of your kind to the spray can may have been a match made in heaven for people with itty-bitty hands like mine, or arthritis, like the retired bus driver up the street.
I can’t go to the hardware store with you in my purse and ask if there are any spray cans that will fit you, because now, everything has changed. The spray nozzle is different and the colors are new. Rust-Oleum has a spray gun grip that fits the new spray nozzle. And besides that, the new one from Krylon has a red plastic lever and you don’t.
So that leaves me with no alternative but to put your plastic help aside and say good-bye.
Good-bye, Old Friend. I’ll miss you. (Sniffle.)
WAIT!!! Maybe I could attach you to a can of Bull Shit Repellent!
Now, there’s a thought.








