Living Alaska — What Would You Do With a 50-gallon Drum of Yellow Paint?

A Lesson Well Learned

I Drew Outside the Lines

Fifty years ago, my Kindergarten teacher gave us crayons and a coloring book. Her instruction was to color between the lines. I took her words of wisdom as advice and painted the book red, white, and blue. I drew outside the lines and added my pictures.

A Picasso in the Making

Like most six-year-olds, it looked nothing like Michelangelo, but not far off the Picasso scale. It had odd-shaped appendages in the appropriate areas, but a life-like picture it was not. She told me later that I was supposed to paint only between the lines and not outside the lines.

No Gold Star

I did not get a gold star, but my mother liked it and briefly placed it on the Refrigerator door. My brother’s and sisters’ pictures returned with Gold Stars because they were painted between the lines. I never planned on being an artist.

More My Style

I read many books; I like authors who buck the trend of writing style. The cookie-cutter authors never appealed that much. Reading Hemingway, Poe, and Dickens was more my style.

Acceptance is Survival

Life has a way of bending you back to the center of humanity. Either do it the way we say it should be done or starve. Left with those choices, we usually decide to eat rather than paint outside the lines. Acceptance is the way to survival in the modern world.

50 Gallons of Yellow Paint

I was tasked with a 50-gallon drum of yellow paint today. I thought of my kindergarten teacher and my No Golden Star Painting. I liked the colors; there wasn’t any yellow in my original. I was at work, and my instructions were clear: paint between the lines only.

My Personal Dilemma

I was left with a dilemma. I wanted to paint away. Do something outlandish and artistic, but alas, I also wanted to eat dinner. I knew the consequences of my actions, something a six-year-old could play dumb and get away with. I am not six years old anymore, even when I feel like I am.

I Painted Through the Night

The yellow paint was for safety purposes, so the issue had more pertinence than simple artistic expression. I still felt challenged with the lines. Could I have learned something important in my 50 years of life? Something like, “Just do what they tell you.” I painted through the night.

A Conspiracy in the Making

This morning, the boss reviewed our handy work. Our Rembrandt is in the making. He approved of our bright yellow paint job. He liked it so much that he asked us to paint the rest of the ship. Do you ever get the feeling that this was their plan all along? The teachers are in cahoots with the bosses.

I Got My Gold Star

If we do what we are told, we get more work. Yeah, or is that a nay? I finally got my gold star for painting between the lines. It only took fifty years in the making.

A Novel Solution

I still wanted to paint outside the lines, though. I pondered the situation and devised a novel solution to my wayward needs. I asked the boss; can I draw the lines? This way, whoever painted would be painting between my lines, and I could live in my artistic fantasy world.

Drawing My Own Lines

He agreed with my proposal and handed me twenty rolls of blue tape. So today, I was the master of the lines. All is well that ends well. How do you like my lines anyway? From Kodiak, Alaska, with love and yellow paint.