The Man Wall

Beauty in things exists merely in the mind which contemplates them.

From David Hume's Essays, Moral and Political, 1742

See that big white wall out there? When we built the dock, that baby was just a narrow rectangle on the plans. A small storage area. Turned out much larger and I didn't recall the odd "fit" with the roof. I first saw it toward the end of its construction and I wanted to throw up.

"What the hell is that?" I asked my neighbors.

They shook their heads. We stared at it further.

"Sometimes we get a hard west wind," one of them said.

I laughed. "We can hope."

Further discussion with my husband only wrought an indignant attitude. To him, the beast was aesthetically perfect. Beautifully constructed. Masterfully planned.

"An eyesore?" he said. "It's functional. Serves it purpose completely. Paint a cool mural on it."

"I had a cool mural there," I said. "A real one. A view of the lake."

The past two years, I have provided hints on how to mask its beauty. I suggested a neon Blue Moon beer sign. He nixed that. Hates Blue Moon beer. I suggested a sign like the little resort in Minnesota my family has visited since 1958 and where we took our kids for 20 years. Maybe something on that line.

ONE , big, round sign.

I think all he heard was the word "sign". Next thing I know, packages arrive at the house. He has ordered the wall's new design. He spread his purchases out on the fireplace. See for yourself.

Our very own Man Wall, complete with a see-through nightgown.

I asked if I could order a few signs, to break it up a little. He agreed. Not sure he likes my choices (Blue Moon silk stockings, Schwinn bicycles, Popsicles, and the Twilight Lounge .)

At present all the signs are laid out on the floor with the precise spacing only an engineer can bring to the party, ready to be drilled for eternity into the white wall. I guarantee, the wood wall will rot or blow over before any of those signs move even a squinch.

I'll send a picture after he gets them up.