Factory Art

Suppose, as a sort of satirical comment on contempory art, a person began to drag home every piece of rusty metal that lay in his twisted path through life and set them out in his yard. After fifteen years or so, what would it look like? Any chance his project would morph from satire into artistic pretention complete with a lame interpretation of the art form?  Double click on the images for a better look.

Fredrick Faucet Hands aka Watering Man

Spirit Chairs

The Collage By The Garage

Four Gorillas Returning From A Pipe Hunt

Homer Simpson

Do You Call That Art?

I call it factory art, which implies that it was made in a factory so there were many identical items produced and it was made for some functional purpose and any visual appeal or interest it may have is accidental rather than intentional. But is it art? Since there is no, or almost no, artistic execution involved, it is hard to call it art. The role of factory artist is more that of discoverer than executor. But I will say that a number of legitimate artists have looked at the collection and none has ever said anything that was not encouraging. One opined that once a person puts something up to be looked at, then the thing is art. One time we hosted a party on behalf of friends so that we did not know a number of the guests. I was standing in the yard with two guys, one an engineer and the other a self described artist from Chicago. Indicating one of the pieces the engineer asked, “What does that do?” Before I could answer the artist said, “It’s doing it.” I took that as praise.

Not all these pieces fit the definition of factory art. Watering Man was intentionally made and the Spirit Chairs, while no doubt made in a factory are in fact not particularly interesting to gaze upon. What makes them interesting is what is not there to be seen. I used to favor those pieces that actually look enough like something to inspire a good name. Four Gorillas Returning From A Pipe Hunt is an example. Now I like best the ones that can sustain my attention. Collage By The Garage is an example of that. There is quite a bit to see there. If what you see is a bunch of hub caps, you’re missing it. It is a natural response to look at these things and say, “What is that? What was it made for?” That instinctive response is what you must get past in order to “see” the pieces.

I certainly know of pieces by legitimate artists that I find much less interesting, but there’s no accounting for taste.

A Conversation With Osama bin Laden

I had a day dream today in which I chanced to have a conversation with Osama bin Laden. I asked him, “How did you hope the United States would react to your attack on September 11, 2001?”

He said, “First of all I hoped you would get into a war with some Islamic country. Afghanistan would be good since the Afghans are so accustomed to fighting European invaders that they can do it forever. I didn’t predict your short term success, but I was pretty sure you’d regret it in the long run. Not only would it cost you in blood and treasury, but it would help to polarize attitudes on both sides of the struggle over the future of Islam, that is, will it modernize or not. Next I hoped it would incite a lot of anti Muslim sentiment in the U.S. with attendant displays of hatred. That would surely help my recruitment efforts. Third, I dared to hope that what was really only a symbolic strike given the size of the US, absolutely minor in real damage to either lives or property, would come to be interpreted as some kind of catastrophic blow. Since I didn’t really give a shit for your personal rights to privacy, trial by jury, etc. I didn’t particularly hope they would be curtailed. They mean nothing to me. Finally I hoped and I continue to fervently hope that you will never ever forget. You know, it was a pretty big day for me. I’d hate for you to just get over it.

Me: Well how’s it going for you then?

Him: Pretty well I’d say.

Good dog Kodi. Good dog.

The longer we go without losing a chicken or duck to some predator, the more relaxed we become about letting the poultry free range in the yard – and beyond. It has now been quite a long time, nearly a year, since we’ve had a loss and as usual we have become quite cavalier about the threat. However, in the last week or so there have been a couple of signs that there may be danger lurking in the woods out back. We’ve told ourselves to be careful, but it is such a pleasure to see the birds rush out of their cage to the lawn and pond that we can’t resist letting them go.

We’ve had Kodi for about four months now. She’s about six years old and came to us from a shelter. She’s a real sweetheart of a dog. She has no bad habits regarding people. She is patient with children. One of her first accomplishments was to help our four year old grandson get over his fear of dogs. She gives about two barks if a stranger comes in the front gate. That is just about right as far as we are concerned. Someone gave her good training. She is very well house broken. She comes. She sits. She heels. She lies down on command. She does these, that is, as long as she wants to. If she doesn’t want to then she’s not quite so good on the commands. And alas neither is she so good with other dogs.

Kodi has just finished a six week course called Rowdy Rover at which we hoped she would learn to be more polite in the company of her own kind. At the end of the fifth week the instructor announced that she felt she had a handle on each of the dogs in the class and proceeded to go down the list saying this or that about each one. She saved Kodi for last. What she said was, “As for Kodi, I think she just doesn’t like other dogs.” We took that to mean there’s not much chance ol’ Kodi is going to learn to be good with dogs. In fact she gets after cats, squirrels, and moles as well. Happily she mostly ignores the chickens and ducks, although a couple of times she has given them, and us, a little start by making a faux pass at them.

This afternoon I was occupied in the back of our house getting ready for a new furnace that is coming next week. The poultry were free in the side yard, scratching, pecking, dust bathing or pond bathing according to their likes. Kodi was secured in the front. At a certain point I heard sustained barking and at first thought it must be Toby the dog two houses to the south. As I listened more closely the sound seemed more to be coming from in front where Kodi was. I had never heard her bark so long and steadily so I thought I’d better see what was up. Upon entering at the north end of the front yard I saw Kodi across in the southwest corner, poised in an aggressive stance, barking into a thick rhododendron about three feet in front of her. When I called her name she ignored me. I hurried to her side. Expecting to see a squirrel, I peered into the bush where all Kodi’s attention was concentrated. It took a moment, but then I saw a pair of eyes staring back at me from behind a white mask. Kodi had treed a raccoon and she wasn’t letting it go.

Cute though they be, raccoons are the principal predators of our poultry. They are also pretty tough and I wasn’t at all sure how Kodi would fare if the two actually got together. Kodi seemed to have no such reservations. After a moment’s reflection I went and chased the birds into their pen. I decided there was really no point in trying to capture or kill the raccoon. I hoped his encounter with Kodi would be enough to keep him away from here in the future. Kodi continued to ignore my calling. I went to the kitchen to get some special food that might draw her away and finally chose some cheddar cheese. When I got back to the rhody, Kodi had moved in under the shrub and was snarling and barking. I couldn’t see the coon. Finally after about ten minutes Kodi emerged from the bushes and slowly eased over to the cheese where it lay on the grass. I slipped the leash onto her collar and with many strokes of her beautiful coat I gently led her into the house.

Without Kodi would the raccoon have gotten a duck or chicken? I can’t say for sure, but they certainly have in the past. Good dog Kodi. Good dog.





Click on the photo to make it large and then look for the eyes.

Reasons Not To Shave

Oh, there are so many. I will offer just one.



Today I was returning from the donut store with a well stocked trailer when, in a snitzy neighborhood on Capital Hill, I came upon a dumpster nearly full of stuff generated by a remodeling project. Of course I stopped to have a look and was rewarded with some useful stuff. Since a worker was standing nearby, before helping myself, I asked it that would be OK. He replied, "Take all you want, Sir."



Now I affirm to you dear reader, absent a white beard, no dumpster diver ever gets addressed as Sir.

Flying on Delta and Other Disappointments

Once, when I was young, people treated doctors with reverence. We listened uncritically to what they had to tell us and we meekly trusted their advice. These days - not so much.

I recently found myself seated in the fuselage of a rather large aircraft which was about to leave the ground. Or maybe it was already airborne when the cabin attendant announced, "We're flying today with Capt. Bob and First Officer Eric."

Listen, unless the guy is Capt. Sully, I don't want to know him by his nick name, if you don't mind.

The Would-Be Runner's Prayer

The difference between a would-be runner and a real runner is that a real runner likes to run, whereas a would-be runner, when he or she runs, is doing it for some alternative motive. The would-be runner's prayer is:

Lord, deliver me from thinking how good it would feel to stop.

This I'd Like To See

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You may know of a little flap at the UN these days arising from a letter from a departing official that was strongly critical of the secretary general. The letter got leaked to the press. I just read a report stating that several current officials have now come out in support of the secretary general and one was quoted as saying that the offending letter was full of ommisions. Think about that.