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I decided to remove the green patina from the mermaid who has lived in our hot tub for 20 years, so I took a wire brush and labored for half an hour before a friend dropped by and told me I was destroying her.

"A mermaid is supposed to be green," he said. Huh?

I slapped myself in the forehead several times, then called Phil Levine, Highline's world famous sculptor. I knew that he and his wife, Rachael, have lived in Beverly Park since 1963 and raised three kids, who all graduated from Evergreen High.

I called him and he said, "Bring your mermaid over and let me see her."

I hadn't seen Phil for 40 years. We once told the story of his remarkable talent [White Center News, 1965]. He grew up in Denver where his father was a salesman and studied art at the University of Colorado. He met and married Rachael and they came to Seattle where he got his Masters in Sculpture at the UW.

They lived in Rainier Vista for several years till they found their Highline place in 1963.

He and Rachael are still active in our community. He says he would like to see Burien annex the North Highline area. They admire Judy Duff and Russ Pritchard, who he says prefers to incorporate a city of their own, but he fears there are not enough tax resources. He feels Burien could better afford the risk.

Phil still has a big studio and workshop but at 75, he does not do big bronzes any more. He prefers smaller pieces and has a number of them on display. But I admire very much the bronze he calls Mother Justice, which graces the door of the Burien Justice Court.

I knew that West Seattle businesssmen had commissioned him to do that delightful gang of bronze kids cavorting on logs on the hillside at the west end of the freeway. Those captivating kids have been delighting motorists for 10 years, in spite of some nutball who drove up the hill and rammed one of the concrete logs.

So Phil came to my rescue, examined my pint-sized mermaid carefully. He pronounced her a little sick, but said I could smooth the wire brush scratches with bronze wool and I could even restore the green patina.

I felt better. After all, not many guys own a mermaid, with or without patina.

Brunhilde was originally a gift from my big sister, who got it from a sculptor on the Oregon Coast. Though she had kept Brunhilde in a fountain, I couldn't bear to leave the poor little half-naked thing out in the cold, so - with Elsbeth's permission - I stowed her in our hot tub room and ignored her for 10 years. Finally, I decided to drop her in the spa. After all she's half-fish and half-woman.

But I had no idea that the chlorine in the water would give her bronze disease. Her golden sheen was gradually peppered with little black spots from her graceful tail to other sensitive places. And I had foolishly tried to cure her. Doctor Levine says she is curable.

I hope she's grateful for this rash of attention. The last thing a guy wants to do is irk a German mermaid. I once spilled orange juice on the paper before Elsbeth had a chance to clip the coupons. She took away my cinnamon toast and made me eat oatmeal with no brown sugar.