Elvis: Head On...Apply Directly to the Forehead

Welcome to the musings and mutterings of an exhausted gallery host. I'm not traveling this weekend so Joan had visions of me working in the yard and catching up the honey-do list. Given that it was an incredibly beautiful day here in the upstate of South Carolina I considered The List to be a not-so-oppressive agenda. Plus Joan had promised to help out in clearing the jungle with the yard work.

Alas. The gallery came a calling. I was informed this past week that one of our younger artists was impregnated recently. This was a joyous bit of news until we found out that this was her first pregnancy and was suffering through some pretty intense "morning sickness." Evidently morning to her means all day, 24/7, "I'm gonna throw up on the customers" kind of sickness. I've gotta give Leslie Owens some props for trying to work her shift today but there was no way she was going to sell artwork due to the nature of her condition. Barfing on potential art collectors is not really appropriate unless the gallery is truly weird. Artists might get away with this kind of thing in places like New York, Paris, or Turkistan but not in the upstate of South Carolina.

Yours truly was available and the Garden Party was called off. Honestly, upon arriving, when I actually saw Leslie I wanted to tell her the flight only lasted another 15 minutes and barf bags were located in the seat in front of her. Also I'd like to receive some props in the comment section from the mommy bloggers out there who know or remember the experience so I can file them away to remind Joan the next time she tells me our yard would make a great wildlife refuge.

Leslie usually looks like she could be Sandra Bullock's little sister. Today she looked like Casper the Evil Ghost. It was that bad. Anyway it was an interesting day to say the least. The following are stream of conscience thoughts or actual events that took place in my world today.

• "Head On - Apply directly to the forehead" - When given the chance I watch Sponge Bob with Ben on Saturday mornings. For some reason Nickelodeon programmers figured lots of kids had hangovers. Every other ad was for the headache remedy. I know for a fact that everyone of you have seen or heard these commercials. If I had the chance I'd like to shake the hand of the person who came up with that brilliant advertisement and then punch 'em in the nose. Enough said.
• "Blinded by the Light" - The song was made famous by Manfred Mann but was written by Bruce Springsteen. What in the hell was he tripping on when he wrote that song? I've never thought of E-Street Bruce doing 'shrooms but he had to have been on a three day drunk to have written those lyrics or at least have eaten some bad Taco Bell.
• The cashier at the grocery store where I bought a bottle of wine - I guess I will never ever understand dialect from certain "cultures" of my own society. I was in the checkout lane of a local grocer and happened upon a very kind black lady. When it was my turn to check out I kindly asked, "How are you?." She replied "My breasts ...are just for you." Obviously she saw the stunned look on my face and repeated her question, "I'm blessed and how are you?"
• Elvis entered the building. Really. This is the kind of thing that happens at my booth just about every weekend. Me and Pegi Newton, the painter that called on me this morning (more about this absolutely funny artist later), were doing our thing this afternoon. Some guy that obviously was A) dumb as a rock B) loves velvet and likes paintings on it or C) the kind of person you pray doesn't seek a job as a bus driver for your children came into the gallery. He "sort of " looked like Elvis with his greasy pulled-back hair and tinted lens glasses. I asked about "his work" and he said he was unemployed but was a good cook. After telling him that we didn't need a cook, Pegi and I then had to explain that we meant his "art work." His response was, "My stuff is better then this." Now I've had folks with the audacity to say they can do what I do. Usually it's a grandmother at an art festival telling their grandkids that they'll buy a canvas and let them paint on it once they get home (yes, I hold my tongue) but this guy took the cake. Pegi asked, "So your work is better than ours?" Elvis stammered but bit down hard. "Yep." I just pray that I'm there for the jurying process to get into our guild!