Ice Cream and Fathers
Am enjoying Marisha Pessl's "Special Topics in Calamity Physics." Am particularly enjoying the depiction of the father/daughter relationship (of which I have 2) by an astute young woman, albeit a fictional one. That said, the much-publicized good looks of the author do, on occasion, as I stare longly at the inside back flap of the dust jacket, make me give some specific thought to being her daddy, but only in the way suggested leeringly by the most sordid use of the term.
Anyway, on a purer note, the daddy in the book announces one day in the supermarket: "America's greatest revelation was not the atom bomb, not Fundamentalism, not fat farms, not Elvis, not even the quite astute observation that gentlemen prefer blondes, but [rather] the great heights to which she has propelled ice cream."
Booyah!
I'm not sure yet where the book is going, but this is the sort of line that's making me enjoy the journey. And speaking of journeys, I've been taking several lately, and will continue to do so, between New York and Leesburg, Virginia, up and down Route 95 like a yo-yo, to assist my father through a difficult medical moment. On my last trip down I spent a lot of time listening to "James Brown: Live at the Apollo (1962)" and decided to start appending the titles of James Brown songs to the titles of my portraits. To this end, the title scrawled across my upcoming painting of Jim Cramer will be "Big Jim I: Get Up (I Feel Like Being Like A) Sex Machine."
Which does make me giggle.
As follow up, certainly one must consider a portrait of David Letterman entitled "Big Dave I: (Say It Loud--I'm Black and I'm Proud)" --the rationale for which should be immediately obvious. On a more mean-sprited note, perhaps "Big Maria I: Hot Pants (She Got To Use What She Got To Get What She Wants)," which is doing Ms. Bartiroma a clear disservice and should perhaps more rightly be reserved for Julie Chen or Willow Bay, but they're not on Wall Street and I am the Painter of Record for the intersection of finance and politics, and this title too makes me smile.
"James Brown: Live at the Apollo (1962)" is often labeled one of the best live albums ever. I would disagree, suggesting in its place certainly "Bob Marley Live" and about ten bootleg Bruce Springsteen concerts.
Nonetheless, Wikipedia notes: In 2003, the album was ranked number 24 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time. In 2004, it was one of 50 recordings chosen that year by the Library of Congress to be added to the National Recording Registry.
24 seems high to me. Still, it is full of surprises and more good clean fun than you should be allowed to have at 80 miles per hour.
I may be posting less in the next several weeks. Bear with. Sometimes not painting is painting too.
Anyway, on a purer note, the daddy in the book announces one day in the supermarket: "America's greatest revelation was not the atom bomb, not Fundamentalism, not fat farms, not Elvis, not even the quite astute observation that gentlemen prefer blondes, but [rather] the great heights to which she has propelled ice cream."
Booyah!
I'm not sure yet where the book is going, but this is the sort of line that's making me enjoy the journey. And speaking of journeys, I've been taking several lately, and will continue to do so, between New York and Leesburg, Virginia, up and down Route 95 like a yo-yo, to assist my father through a difficult medical moment. On my last trip down I spent a lot of time listening to "James Brown: Live at the Apollo (1962)" and decided to start appending the titles of James Brown songs to the titles of my portraits. To this end, the title scrawled across my upcoming painting of Jim Cramer will be "Big Jim I: Get Up (I Feel Like Being Like A) Sex Machine."
Which does make me giggle.
As follow up, certainly one must consider a portrait of David Letterman entitled "Big Dave I: (Say It Loud--I'm Black and I'm Proud)" --the rationale for which should be immediately obvious. On a more mean-sprited note, perhaps "Big Maria I: Hot Pants (She Got To Use What She Got To Get What She Wants)," which is doing Ms. Bartiroma a clear disservice and should perhaps more rightly be reserved for Julie Chen or Willow Bay, but they're not on Wall Street and I am the Painter of Record for the intersection of finance and politics, and this title too makes me smile.
"James Brown: Live at the Apollo (1962)" is often labeled one of the best live albums ever. I would disagree, suggesting in its place certainly "Bob Marley Live" and about ten bootleg Bruce Springsteen concerts.
Nonetheless, Wikipedia notes: In 2003, the album was ranked number 24 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time. In 2004, it was one of 50 recordings chosen that year by the Library of Congress to be added to the National Recording Registry.
24 seems high to me. Still, it is full of surprises and more good clean fun than you should be allowed to have at 80 miles per hour.
I may be posting less in the next several weeks. Bear with. Sometimes not painting is painting too.
posted by Geoffrey at 9:52 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home