When I was growing up, my parents had this enormous oversized Norman Rockwell coffee table book. I spent countless hours on my living room carpet looking at all those paintings. Norman Rockwell is probably my favorite graphic artist-I never liked paintings or the like very much; I spose I always just liked music better. (Funny side note: my Dad, the mathematician, or 'mathmagician' as Mands calls him, has a poster that says, "A graph is worth 1,000 sets of data." Jeez, those math nerds.)
I realize that Rockwell wasn't a fabulous artist (insert Bette Davis saying choppily, "I deplore cheap sentiment"), but his combination depiction of pop-culture and human nature is so uniquely American. And endearing. How unfortunate that I am forced to use the word 'endearing'. Next thing you know, I will be a middle aged woman that wears sweatshirts with house cats on them, and evaluate everything on a gradation of 'cuteness'.
And just like I could live the rest of my life solely speaking in Will Ferrel SNL skits, I could live the rest of my life living out Rockwell's paintings. The one for this week is Homecoming. Guess which character I am.
4 comments:
Anne Baxter; that's my guess. (I'll be forward like Ms. Bees and ask what the prize for winning is, too.)
"the"-
"I wouldn't worry about your heart Eve. You can just put that award where your heart should have been."
Bette was *so* sassy.
Hmm...you win a road trip with me and Bees to Salem. Whether. You. Like. It. Or. Not.
Thanks, Ed; I'll start packing. I just got a spooky post from another Salem resident; I think I might be making some new friends.
Who get's to ride in the front seat with you? No wait, Ms. Bees will drive and we'll sit in the back seat telling ghost stories.
We'll have several picnic baskets of food and booze and a body in the trunk. What a trip!
Flesh-
No silly. I am the girl pressed alluringly against the alley wall--awaiting the return of her sweetheart. Craig gets back on Thursday. Yipee!
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