Monday, January 2, 2012

Blue Smudge

Modern art sucks.  Every couple of years Nikki and I decide to go to a modern art museum for some unexplainable reason.   I suppose it's like forgetting about how bad that one burger place was the last time you tried it.   You can't quite remember what it was like, and besides, how bad can a burger be.  So you go back, and it still sucks.  That's what modern art museums are like for me.

This scribble of blue crayon or chalk (or whatever it was) be Mel Bocher was on display at the museum.  No joke, that's the entire work of art.  It feels so condescending to put that in an art museum and call it art.   It's as if the artist thought he'd pull a quick one on the less intellectual folks because, hey, what do they know about art?  I know this Mr. Bocher:  That's a piece of crap!  How about you try next time, you know, give it the smallest bit of effort.  Sorry you had to be bothered with your busy artist schedule to have to come up with something worthy of display.  I came up with an art piece of my own while I sat there in the museum and tried to control my hate.  It's called "Yellow Smudge".  You know why mine is better?  I thought about if for ten seconds before I created it.

By the way, 90% of the stuff in modern art museums suck.  Every 45 minutes or so you will actually find something worthwhile on display, but you have to really look.

The beauty of San Francisco, however, is that for everything one thing that sucks, there are 100 other things going on that will make you quickly forget that other thing.   There is an endless availability of new things.

Lots of people watching

Lots of sights

Lots of things to photograph

And of course, there's my beloved Fiddler's Green.  It's small, it's old, and it's authentic.  The customers are regulars and many of them have Irish accents.  People go there to talk and sing and enjoy each other's company, not to eat, pick up women, or fight.  There's a small jukebox in the corner, a glorious mix of mostly older music, and lots of Irish choices.  They pour the best glass of Guinness I can find.  I don't know why it's different, it just is.  There is a protocol for pouring a pint, look it up.  Nikki notices a difference, and that's saying a lot because she hardly drinks beer.   It replenishes my soul, it's my place, my must-go location when I'm in San Francisco.  

Mr. Bocher, this glass is real art....

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