Paint Colors, Light Bulbs and John Boomsma

The other day, I received a call from the Manager at our Jenison RepcoLite, John Boomsma (see inset).  He had just run into a crazy situation in the store and figured I could make use of the information on our blog.  

John explained that he had received a phone call earlier in the week from a customer who was extremely frustrated.  She was at a loss--didn't know what to do.  See, she had just painted two rooms in her home.  As most people do when getting ready to paint, she had agonized for a few days or weeks over colors. 

Finally, after much effort and after asking her family 100 times which color they liked the most (and then opting for the color she liked the best despite what they said), she painted both rooms.  

And that's when things got weird.

In room 1, she loved the color.  It was perfect.  It blended with the fabrics, the carpet, the trim and so on.  It was exactly the look she had wanted.

However, she was shocked to discover that she hated room 2.  The color looked terrible with the fabrics, the carpet, the trim, and so on. 

The weird thing?  The color was the same in both rooms.  So was the fabric.  And the carpet.  And the trim.  Identical rooms painted with the exact same color out of the exact same gallon and room 1 looked beautiful and room 2 looked terrible.

So she called RepcoLite in Jenison where she bought the paint, wanting to know what was going on.

Now, I'll admit that while John was telling me this story, I was a little intrigued.  These things are sometimes like mysteries and it can be fun and rewarding to puzzle them out and find a solution.  However, I have to be honest:  I wasn't sure, from what I was hearing, what the problem could possibly be.

I assumed maybe a paint color problem.  Maybe the roller she used had paint in it from another job.  Maybe the previous color on the wall was showing through, making the color in room 2 look different.

I had a number of different theories, but then John said "you know what the problem was?  You know what went wrong?"

I waited.  He waited.  (Turns out he wanted me to say "no, I don't know what the problem was" before he'd continue.)  So I admitted ignorance (which made him happy), and he explained, in a single, compound word:  "lightbulbs!"

He went on to explain that the customer had an incandescent lightbulb in room 1--the room she loved.  In room 2, the lightbulb was one of those fluorescent, energy-saving bulbs.  The tone of the light coming from each of those bulbs was enough to visually alter the color on her walls. 

The fix?  Simple:  change bulbs.  

The customer tried the fix and was back in the store a day or so later to report that everything turned out well.  Instead of repainting a room--going through all that work and spending that extra money--all she had to do was change a lightbulb.  

So the point of the story, if it's not obvious, is this:  lighting matters!  Check out your colors in your room, in your lighting before you buy and before you paint.  And likewise, before you give up on a color that you thought you liked but find that you really hate when you see it on your wall, give some thought to the lighting in your room.  Could a simple changing of a lightbulb make all the difference?  It's at least worth a try!

Basketball and Decorating

This is Caleb.  He's short.  I'm about his size. Just fatter.

Not too long ago, we purchased a portable basketball hoop for the kids. We figured we'd all have fun shooting hoops and doing all that "basketball stuff" in our driveway. I assumed it would be a great bonding time, would provide some excercise, and, above all, give us something to do outside.

Well, shortly after we installed the hoop in its place, I realized that it was very likely one of the greatest gifts anybody has ever given to his or her neighbors.  In the history of mankind.  Allow me to explain:

See, I'm short.  Let's just get that out on the table.  And it's not just me.  It's my whole family.  We're all short.  And when we set up that basketball hoop and extended the rim of the basket until it was regulation height, I realized just how short we really were.  We just stood there and watched it go up and up and up until it finally clicked into place.  I wish I had a snapshot of that moment--all of us looking straight up from our humble little positions on earth, some of us squinting.  You would have thought we were watching a comet.  Nope.  Just trying to see the basketball hoop.

Well, the insane height of the basket only frightened me for a minute or two before I steeled my nerves, grabbed the ball and started dribbling it.  It made a satisfying "thump" on the cement.  Made me feel like a man.  

Bouncing the ball, feeling cool, I stepped back a ways, gave myself some space for a good running start, and I took off. My tongue was hanging out in concentration, the ball was thumping against the concrete, my child-like hands were slapping it down, perfectly in-sync with each pattering footstep.  It felt just like what I've seen on TV:  real basketball players, running down the court getting ready to impress. 

My little heart was pounding as I reached that point when I had to jump.  My muscles tensed, my legs coiled and I launched myself into the air.  Flight:  it's a truly amazing thing.  I felt the air whipping through my thinning hair.  My ears popped as I reached heights heretofore never reached.  I felt like superman.  Unstoppable.  And, best of all, it happened in slow-mo.  

Well, in what felt like a long instant replay, I felt myself going up, up, up and I saw the basket get closer and closer and closer.  I reached up with the ball, prepared for the "slam", prepared for the cheering, prepared for the moment of release... and then, suddenly, I was back on the ground again.  The basket was barely visible way up in the sky.  The ball was still in my hand.  My right leg hurt and I had drool on my shirt.  I was sweating. 

Standing there, unsure what to do, I threw the ball as hard as I could into the air and pulled a muscle in my side as I did so.  The ball sailed skyward until it hit the bottom of the net--nuzzling it like a soft breeze--and then it fell back to earth, making an eery, hollow thump on the cement.

And then the kids started laughing.  I was told that in my amazing moment of jumping and "slamming", I had never once been more than 3 inches off the ground. Never once.  I thought I had been soaring, but I'd actually only been skidding along.  

Needless to say, the laughter went on for a while--until they started playing.  Then it quit abruptly because they realized they were no better. 

And from that point on, we've spent many a day running beneath that insanely high (regulation-height) basket, dribbling big basketballs that look oversized in our small, child-like hands.  We run and jump and not a single one of us gets more than 3 inches off the ground.  It's as if we've got invisible rubber bands strapped around our ankles and anchored into the ground.   

And that’s why I say this was one of the greatest gifts a neighbor has given another neighbor ever.  It’s comic relief.  Whenever my neighbors are feeling down or are having a bad day, they just need to look out the window and watch the Hansen family running around the 10 foot tall basket, leaping and jumping and for all that hard work, never once getting more than a few inches off the ground.  It’s absolutely hilarious.  We’re that bad. 

And it’s all because we’re not basketball people.  We’re just not cut out for it.  But even though we stink at it and even though we don’t have very many skills and even though we’re physically not capable of playing the sport competitively (or even casually) . . . we still do it and we still have fun.

And that’s the decorating point today.  So many times, I’ve talked to customers at RepcoLite who are picking out a color to go on their walls that’s the same color as the color already there.  It’s just a new coat--a clean coat--but it’s nothing different.

And they’re bored with it--I can tell that--it’s the same old thing they’ve always done.  But when you ask them and try to get them to step out and try something new, we often hear the same old excuse:  I’m no good at decorating. It’s not my thing.  I don’t know how to do it. 

Well, I’m not good at basketball.  I stink.  And so does my entire family.  And yet, we’ve already made some great memories running around the hoop trying to throw a ball high enough that it has a chance to go in. 

Just because you don’t think you’re good at decorating, don’t let that stop you from trying.  When you step outside of your comfort zone and start trying new things, you’ll discover how much fun it can be to take those plain walls in your home and start turning them into something that reflects who you are, who your family is.  So get going and give it a try.  And if you don’t know where to start, stop out at RepcoLite and let our decorators give you some advice.  You’ll be amazed how much fun the process can be.

Making "Big Red" Red Again

Holland's Big Red Lighthouse, a landmark of the Holland area for years has recently been fading from the bright red icon we're used to seeing at the entrance to the harbor to something more, how shall we put it...pink.

The last paint job on the lighthouse was in 2009 when, according to John Gronberg, secretary and commissioner of the Holland Harbor Historical Lighthouse Commission, "the most expensive paint we've ever used" (not supplied by RepcoLite, for the record!) was brushed and rolled onto the structure. It wasn't long, the harsh weather conditions began to take effect. In the end, that high end and promising coating failed much quicker than expected and the "pinking" of Big Red was well underway.

Three short years later, in 2012, the members Holland Harbor Historical Lighthouse Commission found themselves actively looking for solutions to turn Big Red red again. Happily, working with Lamar Construction, we were able to step in and help.

Check out some photos showing the process and results!

More Info:

• History of Big Red
• What's Going on Here?  Should "Big Red" be Renamed "Big Pink"?
• Holland's Big Red Lighthouse Receiving a Fresh Coat of Paint