But seriously. There are several situations that have been weighing heavy on my mind lately. If you read this or know me you can probably tell that. The least serious situation (the thing I should worry least about) has spent the most time on my mind as of late. So I found it on this morning to realize that I really hadn't thought about it in the past day or so. It wasn't like I was trying to forget about it, trying not to let it bother me. I said or did something that sort of pushed it from my mind and then it sort of got swept away in everything else that was going on. It was both a good feeling and a bad feeling. I've done worse things to forget about my troubles, found other ways of coping. But it seems sometimes that just letting things slide, even if for just a little while, does the trick well enough.
But now onto a slightly sadder note. I haven't been talking too much about the collection lately because I haven't been adding too much, just fine tuning a few sections and waiting on long ago ordered pieces to trickle in. Then we'll start thinking about adding things. As any collector will tell you having a great number of pieces is nice, but it's really your favorites that make the collection. They're not always the best pieces or most expensive pieces, sometimes they're just a piece that has a story behind it, or a piece that holds sentimental value for you. As any collector will also tell you shit happens. When you're dealing with fragile things it's only a matter of time before something gets damaged. A paint chip, a snapped limb, a hairline crack. Shit happens. Most of that you can have repaired or you can just get used to. Or you can just replace the piece altogether. A lot of these things are made by the thousands, so even if it's pricey, there is a replacement out there somewhere. Except sometimes there isn't. And a few weeks ago one of my one of a kind pieces of art work was ruined. Funny thing is, I didn't realize it until yesterday. The Joker painting I got at Wizard World Philly last spring immediately became one of the prizes of my collection. It wasn't expensive or even done by a famous artist. It was just cool. And it reminded me of a good weekend. It's had a place of honor on the wall behind my desk since the day I bought it. I see it everyday when I walk into the office. Thing about stuff like that is, you sort of stop actually looking at it at some point. You see it everday, just for a second, and you sort of stop noticing it. You take for granted that it's the same, because why the hell wouldn't it be?
A few weeks ago I mentioned here that while one of the guys working for me was cleaning my office he had decided it would be a good idea to try and clean my collection with his own homemade mix of Fabulouso and other stringent chemicals despite being specifically told not to touch any of my stuff. The problem is that this guy has OCD when it comes to cleaning. It's what makes him good at cleaning the office and the busses, but he just can't help himself sometimes. Even though he was told not to touch my stuff, he still tried to clean it. Luckily one of my managers caught him before he did too much damage to the shelves or any of the statues. I remember walking in that day and thinking, "Hey that painting looks funny." But I was quickly distracted by checking the statues and then dealing with everything else that goes on in a normal day here. I never gave the painting a second thought. Until last night.
The painting is behind my desk, so all day my back is to it. Last night when things finally got quiet, I glanced over my shoulder at it for a second and my mind quickly went "What the hell?" See there used to be a small amount of yellow in the painting...and now it was gone. And then I realized a lot of the red was gone too...I couldn't figure out what was going on. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe there was never yellow, or never that much red. Maybe I was wrong. And then I noticed...the artist's signature was gone. Son of a bitch. I know that was there.
Now that I was finally paying close attention I realized I could see streaks that weren't there before...as if someone tried to scrub the picture clean. The majority of the painting is done in black on one side of a transparency. The rest is done in color on the other side, the exposed side. And the guy who was cleaning the office HAD WIPED ALMOST ALL THE PAINT ON THE EXPOSED SIDE OFF...
He was so anal he had tried to clean the painting, and when he realized it was going wrong he had still continued to scrub until the exposed side of the transparency was nearly clean. Then, afraid to say anything, he simply packed up and left.
BEFORE IDIOT
AFTER IDIOT
Now I know what you're thinking (not because I'm psychic, just because it's obvious), "That's a pretty big difference, HOW THE HELL DIDN'T YOU NOTICE THAT ?!?!" But let's keep in mind here that I've spent the better part of the last few weeks trying to not blow my god damn brains out or let the world get sucked into some sort of hellgate vortex type thingy and you can forgive my inattention to a god damn painting. But now that I'd noticed I was absolutely livid.
And then I thought about it. It's a painting. A painting I loved, true, an important painting...but just a painting. Am I going to fire a guy who really thought he was helping over this? A guy who has a family to support? Nah...that's not me. I mean, I might lose my shit and kill him later, but right now...forgive and forget. Of course I have to take the painting down because every ten seconds I glance over my shoulder and cringe.
But still, it's just a painting. There are more important things...
Like this...
Yeah...that's right.
Ha...
My name is Chris Palomba...and I'm still standing.
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