It was a foggy morning when I found her on the side of the road. Broken and homeless she lay on her side, covered in dew, just waiting for a ride (most likely in the City of Winter Haven refuge truck). You see, this old gal was broken and hurt six kind of ways but had good bones. All wood construction with a carving at the head rest made this red oak rocker special. The problem was that she was badly disconnected at the joints, her seat was loose and the caning was busted right through the middle. Even with this damage, I knew she could be beautiful again! It was early in the morning and I just couldn’t believe my luck that she hadn’t been “rescued” yet! I was on my way to a meeting, and late so I had to rush her into my waiting trunk. By the time I rushed into the meeting I was late for I was sweating like a whore in church. The heat of the sun-dried the dew and I carried her home…where she sat in the garage until I could muster up the “ask” to my Dad who could fix anything. This man built me an entire kitchen of gorgeous cabinets, crafted many original furniture pieces for me over the years and could do just about anything that ever needed to be done with a hammer and nails. I asked him to come over and look at my find. I wasn’t home when Dad came to see the rocker but the hubs showed him to the piece. Later that day, Dad told me it would have to be taken completely apart and rebuilt. (Basically turning his back on the project). Certainly I knew his opinion was that of a perfectionist who only wanted to work on virgin pieces, unbroken and unmarred. Until that moment, I had no idea of his prejudice. I shoved the rocker to the rear wall of the garage and started stacking things on it with the thought that I could fix it and knew what I could do to make the repairs but didn’t have the motivation yet. Besides, I though for sure I saw a little snake crawl past the pile of junk that was awaiting paint, so instead of winding up DND (Damned Near Dead) from a heart attact (word my Mom uses) or sharting my britches in fear, I decided to go into the house and watch a recorded episode of Californication and have some wine.
That same week I scored some gorgeous vintage picture frames. In one frame there was a god-awful amateur painting of Victoria Principal (A television star from the 1980’s show: Dallas). The picture was heinous. The eyes were askew, the colors were garrish and the artist had written her TV name all over the frame. It was more idol worship that art and the moment my two sons and husband saw it in the garage they protested and made fun of it saying it was satanic. One of the boys spray painted horns and a goatee on the face. Nice. I removed the canvas board and tucked it away.
Meanwhile, I thought about what I would put in the damaged seat inset of the rocker. A board? No, too thick, chicken wire? No. Jute webbing? No, it would sag over time. Then, one night, in a dream, it came to me. I would use the Victoria Principal painting! Sure enough, when I pulled the painting out that weekend and dragged out the rocker, it was the perfect fit.
A week ago I repaired the rocker and we all tested it over the last few days. I decided to custom mix paint for this rocker and today was the day for the final part of the facelift! Although I felt a wee bit guilty painting over someone’s art, I knew it would be for the greater good. I sat outside in the crisp air with a shovel at my side (I saw that damned snake slide by and laugh) and I painted Victoria. I always marvel at how garbage can have a new life. I don’t know what kind of SeX LiFe Vicky P has going on but in her near future, she’ll have lots of people sitting on her face. (I know that’s tacky, tacky, tacky…and the church ladies at the Baptist church will scold me and give me the wrong recipe for cake but it’s true.)