And So the Obsession Begins

That’s right, I am now the proud owner of the FestivALL 2010 “T” by Jim Probst!  Last year I convinced Mark Wolfe to sell me his “T” and I like to think that initiative had a little something to do with this year’s E-bay auction to benefit all of the artists and FestivALL itself.

So that’s all good….but now I have 2 sequential years of “T”s in the house.  What do they say, do it 3 times and it’s a habit? 

I can just see it 50 years from now.  My grandchildren come to help clean out the house after my death (for the record, I plan to be found with a smile on my face in bed with a one pound bag of peanut M & M’s, but that’s another story).  They bring some friends from college with them because it’s a big job, and when they open the front door the kids just stand wide-eyed in amazement…….the house is full of almost nothing but sculptures of the letter T.

To a T...and a T, and a T

I will have had to move everything else out over the years.  T’s will be on the walls, but also used as chairs, stools, and tables.  Out back they will be stools around the firepit, stepping stones through the garden, and propped as ladders against trees.  When they find me with my M & M’s my body will be resting on an extra-large T, commissioned one year in my honor of course, to serve as my bed.  Many artists will have competed for this amazing honor, and eventually this particular piece will be donated to the Smithsonian.

Finally one of the kids will find his breath and ask my grandaughter, “What….what was up with your grandma?”

She will smile that little heart-shaped smile she inherited from my daughter and say something mysterious like, “It’s a family secret, but let’s just say when she liked something, she went all the way.”

Mr. Short-Term Memory

Tom Hanks created Mr. Short-Term Memory on Saturday Night Live probably 20 years ago.  The “Blind Date” episode is a classic — it’s over 5 minutes long so if you don’t have that kind of time, just fast foward to the last 90 seconds…..trust me.

Mr. Short-Term Memory spits out his poached salmon into a napkin in horror, claiming to the waiter that someone has put “already chewed food in my mouth!”  It cracked me up 2 decades ago, and today it’s still funny, but not in the same way.  The first time I saw it I thought it was obviously an over-the-top joke.  Today, it just seems like a thinly veiled reference to how dumb we are when it comes to recognizing the obvious.

This country is getting sicker and heavier and more depressed.  West Virginia is leading the pack, but apparently we can’t agree on why or what to do.  How about this?  We feed our kids toxic garbage.  Those kids grow up, they keep eating that way, and they teach their kids to eat that way.  Currently the Kanawha County Schools can’t conclude that “flavored milk” is a bad option for kids.  A packet of ketchup is passing for a serving of vegetables.  And the “super donut” is being served for breakfast in my daughter’s child care center.

It is right in front of our eyes, and we think someone else is chewing up this food and putting it in our mouths.  Ad men who hock trash to eat are lauded as creative geniuses, as if what they are peddling and to whom doesn’t matter.  We wring our hands about how hard it is to “eat right.”

Since someone else is chewing it up and putting it our mouths, I guess we don’t have much choice.