Archive for September, 2012

August 31, 2012: Hanging Around
09/06/2012

          This is my favorite part of a new art exhibit: Designing the space, and placing the art. I even like hanging the work, most of the time.

          This exhibit, which opens Friday, September 7 at Willo North Gallery, is called Collection. It’s a group show made up of new work by artists I have in my personal collection. My intern, Taylor Godfrey, came up with the concept for the show, although she swears it was my idea.

          Come see.

And then my husband comes in to design the lighting.

Thing I Hate Today: Telephone solicitations

Advertisements

August 30, 2012: Runs in the Family
09/05/2012

         

The phone rang at 3 a.m. “Your mother has dysentery,” my father’s voice barked.

          “I’ll be right over,” I said, and hung up.

          I arrived 15 minutes later. Mom certainly did have dysentery—all over the northern end of her house. A trail of, um, dysentery led from her side of the double bed to the master bathroom, where she’d apparently stopped and spun in circles several times while having dysentery.

          There was shit everywhere.

          I got Mom into the shower and, once she was clean and dry and I’d changed the bed and put her into it, I began de-dysenterying every surface in my parents’ bedroom and bathroom.

          The nurse arrived at 8 a.m. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

          “Trying not to barf,” I admitted.

          “Next time, just call me,” she said.

          No problem.

 Thing I Hate Today: Running out of carpet cleaner in the middle of the night

August 29, 2012: Can’t Fit Through the Bathroom Door
09/04/2012

          I finally got tired of being a cow and, about two months ago, put myself on a diet.

          I am, as the saying once went, “reducing.” And this time, I’m not going for anything radical or faddish. I’m not eating pounds of bacon (but no bread!) for breakfast; I’m not running around the block or subsisting on little squares of cardboard and pretending that’s lunch. I’m just eating less. I asked the Internet how many calories a person who never gets out of his chair and refuses to exercise should be consuming, and it told me. I complied. (It also helped that I stopped eating the fattening foods I normally prepare for my parents.)

          Anyway. It’s working. I’ve dumped 17 pounds. The weight didn’t come flying off, but it’s still gratifying to be able to button my pants.

Thing I Hate Today: My sluggish metabolism

August 28, 2012: Not Without My Kitten
09/04/2012

Not my “son.”

          It happened again the other day. I bumped into someone I know a little bit and hadn’t seen in a while. I remembered her name and that she had a daughter named Kelsey, so I asked how Kelsey was doing.

          “Oh, she’s great!” my pal yelped. “She’s just started fourth grade and she’s in band this year and she’s thinking about joining Girl Scouts! It’s so cute!”

And then she said this thing that I hear every once in awhile and which always makes my toes curl.

          “How’re your cats?”

          I responded as I always do. I looked briefly confused, and then I replied, “They’re okay.” And then I changed the subject.

          Note to all and sundry: My cats are not my children. You don’t have to ask after my pets because I have never fathered a child. We have other things we can talk about.

Thing I Hate Today: Superstition

August 27, 2012: I Despise Week Men
09/03/2012

Okay. But what is the movie about?

Thing I Hate Today: Yellow mustard

August 26, 2012: Rocks Off
09/03/2012

What we expected.

          This is what one gets for attempting, however briefly, to revisit one’s childhood: A puddle of purple sludge.

          I’ve been doing one of my annual purges of the house, where I go through every closet and cupboard looking for stuff to get rid of. Last night I found something I have no memory of buying, but which Tevye says the Easter Bunny brought him last March: a packet of Magic Growing Crystals.

          “Can I throw these away?” I asked Tevye.

          “Let’s make them, then throw them out,” was his genius idea.

          I followed the instructions, which were obviously (but not very clearly) translated from some other language, pouring warm water into a fishbowl and then covering rocks with what looked like grape Kool-Aid. Every 45 minutes or so, Tevye and I would peer into the fishbowl hoping to see something. Finally, we gave up and went to bed.

          Twenty-four hours later, we have this:

What we got.

Thing I Hate Today: Unfulfilled promises

August 25, 2012: Not So Contemporary
09/02/2012

          I am apparently quite old.

          I was invited to read a couple of my essays at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art last night, along with four other local writers. I read “Uncle Sam at the Piggly Wiggly” (a satire aimed at annoying pop-psych catch-phrases) and “The Mysterious Song of the Elusive Plastic Butterfly” (about the night, two summers ago, when I awoke in my childhood bedroom and thought, for a second, that it was still 1978 and I had dreamed my entire adult life).

          After I read my essays, I asked Tevye, “How’d I do?”

          “Fine. Grandpa.”

          It seems that I took rather a long time removing my eyeglasses from the pocket of my blazer before I began reading. My glasses didn’t go unnoticed by anyone, it seems.

          “I really liked the story you read about taking care of your parents!” a nice young woman told me at the meet-and-greet after. “And you were so cute in your glasses! My mom has a pair just like them!”

Thing I Hate Today: Karen Carpenter jokes

August 24, 2012: Road Rage
09/02/2012

     I am shopping for a new car. Or, as I like to say, “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”


Thing I Hate Today: Shopping for a car

August 23, 2012: Can’t Smile Without You
09/02/2012

          The Jehovah’s Witnesses returned today.

          It had been an especially trying morning. Mom awoke, as she occasionally does, upset because her card club was coming over, and she wasn’t prepared. Over and over again, I had to pretend to telephone the president of the club (who died in 1978) to tell her that my mother didn’t feel well and could they please not come over.

          After the seventh such fake phone call, Mom said, “What do I have?”

          “Alzheimer’s,” I said, too exhausted to come up with a clever lie.

          “Well, it feels like a cold.” she said, frowning.

           The doorbell rang. The two old ladies on the front stoop were talking before I got the door open.

          “Here we are again!” the one named Bertha called out. I recognized her and her companion from last weekend, when they’d tried to corral me into talking about the anointment of Abaddon or something.

          “We’re walking the neighborhood talking to our friends about the good word of the Lord!”  the other one cheeped.

          Well, this friend has a sore back and is all out of Vicodin, I thought. This friend is an atheist and a homosexual who’s about to explain to you in detail about how both of those things work, just for the fun of it.

           But instead—for once—I closed my mouth. No, I thought. I’ve been delivering that particular sermon for more than 30 years. This time, I’m going to offer something different.

          “Won’t you please come inside and talk to my mother?” I asked, opening the door wide for the ladies.

 Thing I Hate Today: Lint

August 22, 2012: Please, Santa
09/01/2012

Please please please.

I want desperately to believe that this is a real thing, and that new mothers across the land are shoving plastic star-shaped fittings up their children’s asses. So that Little Tommy can shit a constellation!

Hey, it’s possible. I mean, peanut allergies are “real.”

 Thing I Hate Today: The word “locavore”