Paint The Town Edamame

There's a commercial for Buick wherein Tiger Woods is standing about a car length from a huge blank white canvas. At his feet, piled in three separate pyramids, are what appear to be gleaming just-minted golf balls. Tiger grasps an iron and takes aim for the first ball, which explodes upon contact into a paint so red, it reminds me of Johnny's tonsorial handiwork in Sweeney Todd. The canvas is no longer white. Before Tiger is finished he has disemboweled lots more golf paintballs and ruined lots more unsuspecting irons, resulting in an abstract "painting" worthy of the Jackson Pollock Hall of Fame. Tiger strides confidently to the canvas and autographs it. I hate to think what a person have to hock in order to own one of those.

Wash the foyer in Carnelian and cover the door in Dry Dock. The powder room we'll do in Trinket with a Reticence trim.

In the next shot, two signed (and no doubt numbered) Tiger masterpieces serve as the splashy backdrop for three sparkling Buicks ... not one of which has a speck of arterial-red paint on its finish ... not to mention any of the other primary colors that drip from a crayon-box lineup of Tiger's trashed thousand-dollar irons.

Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it? I mean, I could throw paint at canvases all day long and probably couldn't give the finished product away ... signed and numbered or not. I'll have to learn to live with that reality.

But what would be the difference in the canvas I splashed with paint and the canvas Tiger splashed with paint? Why would the result of his artistic effort go for tens of thousands of dollars while nobody in their right mind would want the same thing done by me?

Simple: the name.

Tiger Woods is more than a name; it is a brand. His name means something to millions around the world. My name means something to approximately thirty-four people, none of whom are into abstract art.

Speaking of names and colors and names of colors ... my kitchen is painted yellow. Only it's not called yellow by its maker, Sherwin-Williams. It is called, ahem ... Blonde. Now, wouldn't you rather have a Blonde kitchen than a yellow kitchen? It reminds me of one of my favorite classic movies: Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House. In the scene where Muriel Blandings is relaying to the contractor the colors she wants her walls painted, this exchange ensues:

Muriel Blandings: I had some samples ... here we are. Now, first, the living room. I want it to be a soft green -- not as blue-green as a robin's egg --

Contractor: No.

Muriel Blandings: -- but not as yellow-green as daffodil buds. Now, the only sample I could get is a little too yellow, but don't let whoever does it get it too blue.

Contractor: No.

Muriel Blandings: It should be a sort of grayish yellow-green. Now, the dining room ... I'd like yellow. Not just any yellow; a very gay yellow. Something bright and sunshiny. I tell you -- if you'll send one of your workmen to the grocer for a pound of their best butter and match that exactly, you can't go wrong. This is the paper we'll use in the hall. It's flowered, but I don't want the ceiling to match any colors of the flowers. There are some little dots in the background and it's these dots I want you to match. Not the little greenish dot near the hollyhock leaf, but the little bluish dot between the rosebud and the delphinium blossom ... is that clear? Now, the kitchen's to be white. Not a cold, antiseptic, hospital white; --

Contractor: No ...

Muriel Blandings: -- a little warmer, but still not to suggest any other color but white. Now, for the powder room in here, I want you to match this thread ... and don't lose it. It's the only spool I have and I had an awful time finding it. As you can see, it's practically an apple red -- somewhere between a healthy Winesap and an unripened Jonathan. Oh, excuse me ...

Contractor: You got that, Charlie? Red, green, blue, yellow, white.

Speaking of Sherwin-Williams, a name synonymous with paint ... anybody like to take a guess what the color Knitting Needles would look like? Or Messenger Bag or Muddled Basil or Hinoki or March Wind or Lanyard or Recycled Glass or Stamped Concrete or Rustic City? How do you feel about Yearling ... Front Porch ... Jogging Path ... Ethereal Mood? I think I'll paint my living room Stolen Kiss ... no, make that Patience, with an accent wall done in Alaea. Wash the foyer in Carnelian and cover the door in Dry Dock. The powder room we'll do in Trinket with a Reticence trim. In the master bedroom we'll use Salute, with the bath done in Fleur de Sel ... or maybe Brittlebush. Accept no substitutes! Red, green, blue, yellow, white.

Here's a fun game you can play to test your aptitude for color recognition: http://www.iamcal.com/games/paintgame