I saw this week’s picture and thought “oh no, there’s another one?” By which I meant another of these…
I’m talking about “Cloud Gate,” the monstrosity that sits in Chicago’s Millennium Park (which, if I’m not mistaken, is what Grant Park used to be) and is now the symbol for Chicago. I think it’s an ordinance that every pictorial of Chicago must include a picture of what many Chicagoans (particularly those of us in the diaspora) refer to as “the d**n bean.”
It isn’t as though Chicago hasn’t been the victim of ugly outdoor art before.
This arrived from Pablo Picasso in August 1967, a piece of sculpture requested by the architects of the Daley Center (the building behind this) and it caused an almost immediate furor amongst Chicagoans who decided the name of it should be What The Hell Is That? They finally got around to asking Picasso what it was, and he said, “it’s a woman, you morons.”
Why do you suppose our little Capuchin monkey is so happy? Maybe because he’s going on vacation! At least, that’s my first impression, which is probably wrong, but it’ll do for our purposes.
First, I doubt that the monkey’s going on vacation. What I think is that he was caught in the act of being himself, as Allen Funt used to say on Candid Camera, by someone watching him with a video camera. When the people shooting the video were watching it, they saw him do this and said “hey! That would be a cool picture!” found the frame on the video that caught him at his silliest, and made this picture of it. I don’t think the monkey would sue if he were to see the picture and learn of the mirth and merriment being enjoyed by all, because, as we all know, monkeys make terrible lawyers.
Which brings us to this week’s FPQ, in which Fandango asks the following composite question:
Have you been on a vacation/holiday in the past three months? If so, did you take any precautions against contracting COVID? If you haven’t been on a vacation/holiday in the most recent three months, when was your last vacation/holiday? If you’re planning to go on vacation/holiday within the next six or so months, will you be taking any steps to reduce the risk of getting COVID?
We haven’t been on a vacation per se in years. Mary and I are homebodies, and my mobility issues make travel a major headache. We’re content to sit at home, where it’s quiet and we don’t have people telling us to put on masks and get booster shots.
Whether it’s on a blind date, an interview, or meeting the new significant other’s parents, how do you react if the person isn’t how you imagined? Do you try to find some common ground, simply be polite, or shrug your shoulders?
I assume nothing about the person or persons that I meet, so I really don’t imagine anything about them. In other words, I don’t form an opinion about anyone until I actually meet them.
I’ve always loved sunflowers. They’re happy and cheerful, just like me. Well, whatever…
Vincent Van Gogh (his name is pronounced similar to “fan cough” in Dutch, by the way) painted them in one of his famous paintings, named (SURPRISE!) “Sunflowers.” He was a rather morose character; probably needed to go sit in a field of sunflowers for about three years.
Mary planted some sunflowers one year, and they grew like crazy. I think one was close to seven feet tall. Then, at the end of the summer, she told me to cut them down. Broke my heart, but they’re just annuals; they wouldn’t come back. I wish I had learned how to get the seeds out of the plant so I could plant more the following year, but this was in the days before the Internet (remember those?) and I didn’t know where to turn. I asked a friend of mine, who worked at a nursery, how to harvest the seeds. He said he didn’t know. Maybe he did and just didn’t feel like explaining it to me. Oh well…
The one little flower facing the camera reminds me of the Far Side cartoon where there are a huge waddle of penguins (that’s one collective noun; others are huddle, colony, and parade) standing around, and one pokes his head out and sings “I gotta be me! I gotta be me!”
I din’t know about you, but this would drive me crazy if I lived across the street and I had to look at it. I’d be trying to figure out how he did it, which would sort of ruin the whole thing because if everyone could do this, it wouldn’t be special. Kind of like seeing a magic act where you knew how all the tricks were done. Or watching a movie with someone that had seen it a hundred times and who knew when all the funny parts were coming up, and would sit and tell you what was going to happen next. I won’t tell the story, but suffice it to say I won’t be watching Planes, Trains, And Automobiles anytime soon.
Can you imagine what a Homeowners’ Association would say about something like this? I don’t live where there’s an HOA, thank heaven. I’d spend half my life giving them the finger. You want to see what a little power does to a person?