Pottery spin

I sincerely apologize to any administrative professionals among us, as yesterday was National Administrative Professional's Day and NOT, as stated in yesterday's blog post, National Toddler's Day. I did not mean to imply that administrative professionals act like toddlers, although they might be tempted to sometimes, particularly when their boss is acting toddlerish.

But today's topic is neither toddlers nor administrative professionals. Today's topic is pottery. I'm sure you've seen those places where you can paint your own pottery. These establishments offer art experiences for those, like myself, whose art talents are restricted to paint-by-number, people whose stick-figure drawings of humans are virtually indistinguishable from their drawings of animals, except for the number of legs.

In school, everything I ever tried to sculpt or mold turned out looking like an ashtray. And we sculpted and molded a lot. Our house was littered with misshapen ashtrays I had made, even though no one in our family smoked. The other schools in our system had no money for things like art, gym, or music, because it was all being funneled into my school, in the express hope that I would graduate someday having made at least one thing in art class that did not look like an ashtray. Although the policy of spending public money on useless educational ideas has been fashionable for quite some time, this is where it got its start.

So these paint-your-own-pottery places are perfect for people like me. The piece is already formed for you, so all you have to do is paint it. And if that is beyond your abilities, they have an assortment of stencils, stickers, magazine pictures, etc., for you to decorate your Nutrasweet holder, lightswitch backplate, or toothpick holder with.

But people really do not go to these places because they need a new toothpick holder. What "Paint Your Own Pottery" really means is "Get Out of the House and Gossip With Your Friends." They therefore cater mostly to women who want to get out of the house for an evening, or to women who want their kids out of the house for the evening so they can have some peace and quiet.

The problem with this activity, although it gives you an excuse to have fun, is that you end up with this piece of pottery that you really don't know what to do with. And if you do this often, maybe, like me, your closets and boxes are filled with these self-painted pieces of pottery that you don't know what to do with, right next to all the gifts you get from your company or your husband's company with corporate advertising written shamelessly all over them.

Or you desperately try to find someone to take all these things you painted off your hands. No doubt my mother attempted a similar strategy with my youthful sculptures:

Mom to family friend: Delores, how would you like this colorful, um, fruit bowl? We know the artist personally.
Delores (nose wrinkling): Looks more like an ashtray.
Mom: I'll pay you $20 to take it.
Delores: It would look nice in the living room!

So when I was headed to one of these pottery painting places a few weeks ago for a ladies' night out, I was struck with a brilliant idea for what to do with the piece when I was finished with it. Since we were going to a wedding this summer, I suggested to Joe that we give my pottery piece as a wedding gift. "They always say you should give a personalized gift," I said. "What could be more personalized than something I've painted with my own hands?"

Now I have noticed that in a marriage, your brilliant ideas rarely strike your spouse as being brilliant. My spouse seemed to place this particular idea more in the category of "horrifying," something right up there with serving Purina Puppy Chow for dinner to the minister and his wife (not that I have ever come up with this idea).

"You can't do that," he said. "We like these people."

He had a point. Considering my artistic skills, it would be more appropriate to give something I'd painted as a gift to someone we do not like, something that says, "We never want to hear from you again."

And so I painted a coffee mug that already had "I Love You" engraved into it -- all I had to do was paint inside the letters and make a few Xs and Os around it -- and it actually continued to resemble a mug when I was done with it. When I brought it home and presented it to my spouse, he kissed me and gamely said he would be proud to use it. I still think it would make a perfect wedding gift, but he won't hear of letting it out of the house. He's so sweet that way.

So be assured that if you are getting married, and you invite us to your wedding, we will not give you some tacky, hand-painted gift that resembles an ashtray. We will give you a thoughtful, tasteful gift, chosen just for you, from our stash of corporate freebies Joe gets several times a year. In time, people will stop you asking why your duffel bags have "Campbell" emblazoned all over them.

Wait a minute, where have I heard that name recently...Campbell...didn't I see that on a wedding invita --

"Honey! I've got the perfect idea for a wedding gift!"