The Wonder Years

For most guys I went to school with in 1972, junior year was a time of

exploration, a time for expanding horizons, broadening perspectives,

seeking answers to little-known questions.

It was an opportunity to grapple with the great issues of

our day, which as it happened, boiled down to only two.

One.

of them was sex.

So, now is everybody paying attention?

Miss Farmer, our social studies teacher.

Who can tell me the names of three African republics?

No one?

Let's look at a map.

In one of the great cosmic ironies of our time, the board of education had hired her

to mold and develop our formative young minds.

Dominic, can you point out Liberia on the map?

It's, uh...

that yellow one, right there.

Perhaps you could come up and show us.

Uh... I...can't.

My foot's asleep.

Not an uncommon ailment in social studies that year.

All right.

Why doesn't everybody just pass up their assignments?

All in all, if you were 16 and male, it was agony, and no one was immune.

Which brings me back to the point.

For teenage boys, there were only two great issues.

Sex...

That'll be $369.

And, of course, economics.

Uh, sure.

And let me be clear about this.

By economics, I mean cold, hard cash.

Not that I had any.

49 cents short.

Uh, one second.

Hey, you guys got 50 cents?

Not me.

Sorry, man, I'm tapped.

Wait a minute.

You mean between the two of you, you can't come up with a lousy half buck?

Hey, I paid last week.

Amazing.

Even with my job delivering Chinese food two nights a week... Be right with you.

...the best I could do when it came to cash flow was...

There.

It's a potato chip.

Oh, yeah.

Guess it is.

Get out of here.

Face it.

Poverty was ruining my good name, my reputation, not to mention my credit rating.

What's that sound?

Not to mention my love life.

What sound?

That one.

No, just again.

It's my stomach.

It's growling.

Oh.

Not to mention my girlfriend's digestive tract.

I thought you said you were taking me out to dinner tonight.

Oh, yeah.

Karen, I'm really hungry.

Can't we just get something?

Well, uh, I'm hungry.

I think eating out is overrated.

Yeah, you know, the service is always slow.

Plus, the food is never that good.

You know, I read somewhere that anything you eat after 9 O'clock goes right to your hips.

Didn't you read that?

I think I'd like to go home now.

Right.

Fact.

This cash flow thing was beginning to cloud my judgment.

And so, desperation led me to consider once unthinkable options.

In other words, I needed a second job.

Preferably something that didn't require a name tag and a shovel.

Or a baggie and a scoop.

Brother.

And then, just as luck and money were running out... Oh, hi, Kevin.

Hi.

Lust and fortune stepped in.

And opportunity not.

Came about the job.

Well, gee, you certainly got here fast.

Yeah, well, you know, it's right on the wave.

Besides, you know what they say, the early worm gets the bird.

Anyway, here I am.

Well, good.

Why don't you come on in?

I'm making some lemonade.

And the formalities out of the way, negotiations began.

Sugar?

For your lemonade?

Oh.

Yeah.

So, don't you even want to know what the job is?

Well, it's painting, right?

I mean, I've done lots of painting all over the place.

Two storm windows for dad and Wayne's forehead when I was six.

But who was counting?

Oh, I don't know.

Maybe I should have it done professionally.

But at that moment, I'd have killed to keep professionals from her house.

Hey, why hire them when you got me?

Babe.

Well, if you really think you can.

Of course I can.

So, what would I be painting?

The house.

The house?

The whole house?

No, just the outside.

The thing is, I don't have much money.

And of course, right then, I should have known I was in over my head.

I should have known.

I should have known.

But... How does $500 sound?

And that's when it happened.

Right then, right there, two great forces of nature converged.

Beauty and money.

And cash.

Of course, you would take care of the supplies.

Can you start this weekend?

Well...

Painting?

What do you know about painting?

Dad, what's to know?

I mean, there's a house and you paint it.

Seems simple enough to me.

What kind of paint are you using?

Latex or enamel?

Uh...blue.

You know what supplies to buy?

Well... You have a crew to work with?

Geez, what was this, trade school?

Yeah, I got a couple of guys...in mind.

Well, just make sure you know what you're doing.

Painting's hard enough even when you're good at it.

And there you had it.

The unflagging support of hearth and home.

Better hope it's one of those paint-by-number houses.

Shut up, butthead.

After all, if there was one thing I didn't need, it was my family bringing me down.

Are you out of your mind?

I had my friends to do that.

Paint a house, a whole house.

That sounds like work.

I thought you guys needed the money.

How much you paying?

Let's see here.

Five hundred divided by three comes to... Twenty bucks a man?

Okay.

If that's the way they wanted it, fine.

After all, I didn't need them.

What I needed were men.

Men who took joy in their work.

Solid, blue-collar men.

Men like...

Jimmy Donnelly, Eddie Horvath, and Joey Spinoza.

I don't know, call it instinct.

But somehow, I knew I'd found my crew.

So guys, wanna make a few dollars?

Bingo.

Dollars.

And so, with that, my team was complete.

Sure, maybe they weren't much on experience, but they had their good points.

They worked hard.

They worked fast.

Most of all, they worked cheap.

So Arnold, when you said a few dollars, exactly how few were you talking about?

But I'm not sure.

You know, I gotta buy supplies, then there's overhead and ballpark figure.

20.

4.

95.

30.

30!

So this guy wanted to play hardball, huh?

Sorry, 26 is my limit.

28.

That's as low as I go.

27.

I'm gonna talk to my boys.

Game, set, match, Arnold.

At 80-some bucks for labor plus materials, I'd have enough left from the 500 to qualify as a small fortune.

Okay, 142 for the paint.

That's 28 for the brushes.

35 for the rollers, and 16 bucks for the top.

A very good deal.

A very small fortune.

142 for the paint?

How'd you get that?

I added it.

You got a grand total of 258.88.

Okay.

We're in.

It was kind of like watching my wallet bleed to death.

Still, at least now, maybe the hemorrhage was complete.

Plus tax.