This week has been fun but loud and water-logged. It turns out that I have more to do than I thought, specifically, watch the new Star Wars trailer. It is awesome. I would love to explore some Star Destroyer wreckage. By the way, when is Chewbacca going to show some gray? All of that hair can’t be natural. I think he must dye it between trips to the tanning salon. Anyway, besides watching that I did some other stuff too.
#4 I’ve gotten pretty good at ‘Sweet Home Chicago Suburbs.’
Which is to say that I’m pretty close, but not quite there. I set my iPhone to repeat the original Robert Johnson recording of ‘Sweet Home Chicago’ and began to pluck out the tune just as I planned. As best as I can tell the song is played in F sharp (or G flat? I’m not a music theorist/musicologist/braniac, more of a guesser/amateur/half-wit), by which I mean I sound more like Johnson when I put the capo on the second fret. I wasn’t sure if this was right until I saw on Wikipedia (yes, I went there) that the famous self-portrait which Johnson took of himself in a photo booth shows him with his guitar with a capo on – you guessed it – the second fret. Cool. So I’m in the ballpark. Now the part I’m having the most difficulty with is the beginning intro, some of the middle, and parts of the end. But other than that, I’m practically a Robert Johnson virtuoso. Now perhaps if I take up filterless cigarettes, start a womanizing habit, and find out if Beelzubub has a guitar tuning app, I’ll have the whole thing licked in a matter of years.
#3 My chicken-based dish turned out to be spaghetti…with meat sauce.
I planned to cook chicken on Monday nite, but it turned out that we didn’t have enough in the house. So I planned to cook chicken on Thursday nite, but I made so much spaghetti on Wednesday nite that we just had leftovers on Thursday. So, I didn’t get to the chicken. But providing supper for four nites of the week earned me husband of the week honors at my house, and I’ll take it. And I washed all the dishes. And I did all the laundry. And I mowed the lawn. And I took the kids to and from school. And I even massaged my wife’s feet with no strings attached. I should at least get a nomination for husband of the month for that one alone. Maybe even husband of the year. If I have to do all this again next week, then there should definitely been some serious consideration from the Academy. I mean, really, what man would do all of this without complaining or stipulation (read: copulation and applause). I have boldly gone where no man has gone before and I think a little credit and admiration is deserved!
Isn’t it just like a man to do some work around the house and expect to get an award for it? I’ll get to the chicken next week….
#2 Loved the R. W. Norton Gallery.
My local art gallery is the R. W. Norton Art Gallery here in my hometown of Shreveport, La. As previously stated, I’ve been there before, but I’ve only been there for special events, never to take in the whole place. That was my goal this time.
First, let’s start with R. W. Norton himself. It turns out that he was an oilman in this area in the early twentieth century. How cool is that? He discovered and made his fortune from the now diminished oil field in Rodessa, La in northern Caddo Parish. I’ve been to Rodessa before, and let me just say, if there was wealth to be earned there, I think he took it all. Not much there anymore. Anyway, apparently his wife and his son turned a lot of said fortune into an art collection, which later became part of a foundation, then the gallery, and the rest is history.
If you absolutely hate art, you should still go in order to tour the grounds. It is absolutely stunning. Norton Art Gallery sits on 40 acres in the heart of Shreveport and is surrounded by suburbs – not near a financial center, not near a city park, but in the midst of the quieter parts of town with homes backed up to it. On the day I went the azaleas were in full bloom and the sun was shining after several days of rain, and I loved it. There are paths which crisscross the gardens and I spent at least an hour traversing those. In one moment you’ll be surrounded by tall pines and the next you’re under the shade of a white oak grove. Imagine an art gallery in the middle of Augusta National and you’ll have a sense of what I’m talking about. Ok, so I’ve never been to Augusta National, mostly because I don’t’ play golf or have any high schools named after me or own a fleet of supertankers, but I bet it’s close to that.
Inside the gallery is where they keep the art because, duh. The theme of the entire gallery is the European settling of the New World with emphasis on Louisiana (because of course there is) and the American West (because, well I don’t know). I don’t know if it was planned this way or just turned out this way, but there you go. When I have been here in the past it has always had the quiet atmosphere you would expect from an art gallery, but on the day I went I think they were hosting students from the Academy of Fireworks and Sonic Death because they were SO LOUD. And not just the students, but also the tour guides who must have been hired away from an ammunition factory and forgot that paint really doesn’t have to be shouted over. It was like going to visit the Battle of Endor Museum (I’m sure such a thing exists) while the battle was still going on.
Noisy teenagers aside, I really did enjoy the works of the gallery. It’s large enough to make for an interesting morning, yet not so big that you finally leave because you’re bored and have tired feet. All complaining aside, the Norton Art Gallery is a local treasure and I do hope that the kids learned something from it. I will return someday to enjoy it with my own kids right after I stuff socks in their mouths and bribe them with loss of Wii privileges for a week. Actually, one afternoon will probably be enough of a threat.
#1 I think the mole drowned, at least I hope he did.
We have had epic amounts of rain here since Christmas and I think it’s going to continue for the next few days. The weather broke the day I went to the art gallery and one day when I could mow the grass, but the ground was still so water-logged that my lawnmower got stuck. I haven’t seen any signs of the mole since then so I think that he may have drowned. Is that even a thing? What do underground animals do when there is this much rain? One afternoon after a particularly heavy rain my driveway was covered in earthworms who were looking for the Ark. It was an amazing sight – as was the look on my daughter’s terror-stricken face – to see them crawling around for gasping for air. Does this happen to moles as well? And what about all the science fiction authors which imagine humans living in a utopian underground society? What do they think will happen when heavy rains come? Will we be forced back to the surface and exposed to sunlight? Oh, the horror! Perfect underground and pasty humanity ruined by rainwater and sunlight! We may get a tan and fresh fruit! No, stop it! We won’t be able to handle it! The horror! Stupid science fiction. Anyway, I think the thing drowned and we should just colonize space instead.
I limited myself to four topics this week. I think I’ll limit it even further next week.
See you on Monday.
Breathing in Moderation 