My second career: Art Critic

Dear Bro,

Back in 1985 I was laid off from AirSpur Helicopter after a staffing cutback. I had previously been laid off from General Electric in 1984 due to the downturn in the local California economy and my severe lack of seniority on the job. I attended Chaffey College, or UCLH as we commonly referred to it (University of Cucamonga, Left on Haven Ave) in early 1985 to try to find my next career path, other then being laid off by aviation related employers for the rest of my life. Thus I took the following courses: Philosophy, Drafting, Basic Accounting, Art History, and Biology.

My favorite was Art History, as David Cohen and I took the course together and proceeded to visit every art museum in Southern California armed with both our new found knowledge of art and six packs of Tecate. Ahhh... good times...

but I digress.... from this course I developed a lifelong interest in Art and Art History. As a matter of fact I fancy myself quite the art critic. Here... let me show you...

This is a painting done by some Italian dude named Botticelli. I think he was an extra in background scenes of the Sopranos. Between takes I guess he would sit around and paint stuff. Not a bad first effort, but he has a vivid imagination to think chics would hang out naked on clam shells while weird looking floating dudes blow flowers at her and some other girl steals her clothes. Botticelli needs to lay off the sauce ... if you know what I mean.

Now this is by some Spanish guy who was supposedly one of the greatest artists of all time. I think he cut a few corners on this one as the title of it is "Woman with Book" and I count no more than five pages in said book. Let's say for argument that her hand is hiding 5 more pages, then a better title would be "Woman with Pamphlet", or even "Women with Short Story". But "Woman with Book", well Pablo.... I think that is a bit of a stretch... don't you?







This is art??? I heard somewhere that this guy's work, all like this one, sells for millions of dollars at auction. This is three swabs of different colored paints slapped onto an inexpensive piece of canvas. Wow.... I guess if I drew three lines on large canvases, immigrate from Latvia, and killed myself at age 66 I could have doodlings like this sell at auction to really snooty people for $22 million.








Okay... I give up. Let me get this straight... If I smoke cigarettes like a chimney, get into fights in New York bars, chase skirt like Burt Reynolds in his heyday, and then in my spare time randomly drip some paint on a canvas then one day someone will buy that canvas for $140 MILLION!!!! Am I missing something here!!! It is paint randomly dripped on a piece of canvas by the local mean barfly....












I think I understand why I became an accountant.......

Me, CVG, & ex-football players turned broadcasters named Chris

Dear Bro,

As I have mentioned in a previous blog entry. one of the activities I enjoy here at the airport is to take a daily constitutional around the facilities to offset the extensive quantity of time I spend seated in at my desk looking at my monitor. As part of this walk I see a large amount of passengers on a regular basis, and in some cases some of them either local or national celebrities.

My topic today is about some local turned national celebrities and a certain gripe I have with both of them.

Heres the first one:
In case you haven't followed American football in a while, this is an NBC network commentator named Chris Collinsworth, who is originally from Florida but lives here in Cincinnati as 1) he played many years for the Cincinnati Bengals and 2) now has roots in the community (ie- wife, kids, business .. etc). So during the football season when I am going for my noon walk through the terminal I see Chris heading to baggage claim on the same day each week to spend some time with his family. I usually say hello and he says "hey" and gives me that "good to be home" smile. Nice guy all around.

Now look closely at the picture. Chris was born in 1959, thus as of this writing he is 48 years old. Do you see any gray hair? I gotta be honest here, I am 44 and I got gray coming out the ying-yang, but even in person there is nay a gray on his dome.....

Here's the second subject:
Chris Carter is another football player turned TV sports analyst. In this case he was a local player turned big time, as he grew up in Middletown, OH (up the road) and played his college ball at Ohio State. I saw Chris last week in Concourse B speaking on a cellular device in a nice outfit waiting for a flight. This Chris happens to be 42 years old, so granted I would not expect to see a whole bunch of gray hair on his head... but just maybe a strand or two.

I took a good long look as I walked by, since he was sort of facing away from me and would not be freaked out by my intense study of the exterior of his cranial area. Not a single darn gray hair on the guy.

So based on that evidence... I have my parents to thank for all the gray hair I am collecting because they did not name me Chris......

25 years ago : The US Festival

Dear Bro,

It was twenty five years ago this summer that I jumped into a white Chevy Vega hatchback with a couple of friends from work and and attended the US Festival in Devore, California. It was Labor day weekend in 1982 and as a 19 year old with too much cash in my pocket I decided to go and spend a weekend with over 200,000 other music fans in a small park in San Bernardino county just outside LA to see what this extravaganza was all about. It all came about because one of Apple Computer's founders, Steve Wozniack had a brainwave in 1981 that it would be "cool" to have a big Woodstock style festival in Southern California and since, at the time, he had more money then sense, that he was the man to make it happen.

So my adventure began on Thursday night, when Brian, John and his wife Cheryl, and I crammed into John's Vega with all our gear for the three days. As we knew there would be limited access to purchase food or water, we packed up plenty of food, water, and beer. (Well, okay, John, Brian, and I filled a large cooler full of beer, Cheryl made sure of everything else.) We drove from John & Cheryl's house in Pomona to Interstate 10, then north on Interstate 15 to the concert site. We were within five miles of Devore when the traffic on I-15 came to a complete stop. And there we sat for several hours waiting for the camp grounds to open up so we could park. It was a fun time as everyone was social and basically sitting around drinking beer.

The four of us sat on the car staring at the Thursday night sky, chatting with other people around us and sipping beers. Then disaster struck... It appears Brian got the bright idea of borrowing some dry ice from work to pack with the beer, thus when we reached for a second beer all that were availabe was beer-cicles. In case you are unaware, when you freeze beer it becomes flat after it thaws, and thus pretty much undrinkable. So for the rest of the weekend, we were teetotalers.

The campground was basically a parking lot, with the organizers just allowing extra room between the rows of cars for people to be able to pitch their tents. It was rather ominous that the first night the temperature was over 80 degrees, thus letting us know that it was going to be a rather warm weekend.

All I can say is thank goodness John's wife came along. Cheryl made us haul a two plastic milk containers full of water which proved to be the most valuable commodity in the crowd. The stage was set up in front of a lake with a natural bowl "field" in front of it with room for several hundred thousand people. We set up our blanket about half way back in the bowl, thus we were about 200 yards from the stage near a large relay tower. In general people were friendly, with only a few weirdos passing through. We pretty much spent all three days setting up in the same spot.

And now for the lineup:
Friday: Gang of Four, The Ramones, The English Beat, Oingo Boingo, The B-52's, Talking Heads, The Police This was a great day for music. Gang of Four was pretty much ignored as the crowd was still filtering in, but the Ramones rocked as did the English Beat. The B-52's did a great show, but were choked by dust because by the time they came on stage the "mosh pit" had killed off all the grass in front of the stage and was kicking up something you are very familar with: a dust storm. Best act of the day was the Talking Heads, complete with a Latin rhythm section, with some great renditions of Psycho Killer, Once in a Lifetime, and Crosseyed and Painless.

Saturday: The Joe Sharino Band, Dave Edmunds, Eddie Money, Santana, The Cars, The Kinks, Pat Benatar, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers - A good day of music but no one band stood out as spectacular. By now the biggest issue for the concert was the heat. It was averaging over 100 each day. On this day John and Cheryl brought a watermelon with us to eat. This proved to be quite tempting for fellow concert goers as we had several offers ranging from beer, other food items, money, pot, and even a gentleman in a tyedye t-shirt offering LSD. The water "milk" jugs proved to be the most useful item, as there was water pumps next to the stage that we could use to refill them and keep ourselves hydrated. Another tactic that was useful was to take off your shirt, pour water over it, and then put it back on... instant air conditioning.... At this point we were not longer worried about the lost cache of beer, as it was entirely too hot to drink it and we were all to worn out by the heat at night to party.

Sunday: Grateful Dead, Jerry Jeff Walker, Jimmy Buffett, Jackson Browne, Fleetwood Mac We stayed through Jackson Browne but the heat finally beat us by then so we skipped Fleetwood Mac. The best part of the Grateful Dead was their following, as Deadheads appeared en masse to dance in front of the stage for 1 1/2 hours only to fade into the noon day sun once they were finished.

At the time we were living on Kelly Ave in Upland and as you remember I had the bedroom downstairs.

After the show I had put my ticket stub in the draw next to my bed. Our sister Michelle, who was 5 at the time, decided to play in my room and found the stub, which she decided to tear in half. Realizing what she had done, she decided she should tape it back together so I would not notice what she had done.....

The Sopranos : deleted scene direct from the editor's garbage can

The scene is downtown Trenton on a cool crisp Tuesday morning. The doors have just been opened at the Fellowship of Help Homeless Shelter where volunteers are helping to escort the previous night's guest back onto the street.

Paulie: Madonn', the smell of these fucking guys. You would think they would have a little self respect and take a bath once in a while...

Chris: Paulie, what the fuck are we doing here anyway? It's hard to fucking earn while babysitting these cafones...

Paulie: Kid, I don't make the rules, but when the boss says do it... I just do it.... He wants the Trenton sanitation contract, and the councilmen said some charity work in his district goes a long way with the rest of the jamooks on the council... so here we are.. Hey you!... (Paulie waps an indigent across the back of the head) Get the fuck up!!!!

Chris: I'm tellin' ya Paulie, I don't know how much more of this shit I can take.

Paulie: You'll take as much shit as the boss says you're gonna take. That's how it works... Ton dishes out shit... and you gotta eat it... capise?

Chris: I don't know, Paulie. T has made us do some pretty fucking strange things recently if you ask me. When was the last time you ran a 5K race, cuz that was a first for me.

Paulie: You're young. That's why you got that gig. Besides, that was pretty fucking entertaining watching you throw up at the finish line. I haven't laughed that hard since I Love Lucy went off the air.

Paulie stops and stares intently at a man shuffling out of the center.

Paulie: Hey, I know that guy. That's Vinny Lingrosso from the old neighborhood. We went to school together. Hey Vinny!

Paulie walks over and grabs the Vinny by the arm. Vinny is dressed in a worn wool overcoat that smells like old cabbage and unwashed socks.
Paulie: Hey Vinny.. look at you.. what happened to you?

Vinny: (In a slurred voice) Can you spare some change sir for a cup of coffee?

Paulie: Vinny... it's me.. Paulie... from school.

Vinny just stars at him for a minute, mumbles something unintelligible, and walks off toward the door.

Chris: Jesus Paulie, you know that fucking guy?

Paulie: We were tight me & Vinny. I used to eat over at his house at least once a week. Now look at him. A fucking strunz.... I can't believe it... What if we changed places... that coulda been me instead of him.

Chris: Come on Paulie, you and I know you would never fucking be like that...

Paulie: I know... I know... Chrissy, but I'm just saying ... what if....

Chris heads to the corner of the room to hustle out the last stragglers while Paulie just starts into space with a very concerned look on his face.

Fade to next scene....