I’m always trying to figure out if I like pretty paintings, or interesting ones better. Apparently there is a time and place for both.
This week was the Fine Art Dealers Association Exhibition at the LA Convention Center. I’ve been going for years, and it’s always a lot of fun and a great place to see beautiful work, both 2-D and 3-D. Several of us went on Friday. This year, it seemed that the show was more interesting in the contemporary field in a way that challenged the mind. There were literally works that made you feel motion sick because they had an optical illusion effect to them. They drew great crowds, and cudos to the artist.
When I got home, I fixed dinner, and my son announced his arrival by calling and asking me to step outside for a quick spin in his car. He and my husband have worked on his Mitsubishi Eclipse for a year and a half. They have souped it, boosted it, turboed it and everything else you can possibly do to a car to make it sexier, faster and more powerful. They apparently had had a new breakthrough that made the car do some – hell I don’t even know. I pretend I care, but it upsets me in truth and I don’t let the information sink into my memory. But I obliged, and got in the car.
We got a block away and within 100 yards of a stop sign, he GUNNED the car, taking it through three of the gears at unbelievable speed. I screamed at him to stop as my foot pounded the invisible break in front of me. He laughed gleefully. What fun it was for him. I was dreading the next open stretch but to my great relief, there was a cop car ahead that had pulled someone over, and Dylan crawled by. I explained I had something on the stove and needed to get back.
He ate dinner and left. At about 11:00, the phone rang. Everyone out there who has a driving teenager knows that sinking feeling of getting a late night phone call from your kid, and you know they’re not calling to say goodnight. Of course in our case, the car breaks down on a regular basis so it could be that OR an accident. My husband answered. It would seem that Dylan had decided to show his friends what his car was capable of doing. Apparently, there is something under the hood that he has to switch (he has not gotten around to putting the switch in the car yet), to make it do something really cool. He forgot to close the hood all the way. You guessed it. The hood flew up as he hauled down the street and smashed his windshield. Thank GOD ALMIGHTY there was no accident other than that.
All I could manage to say to him today was a terse “Did it make you a better driver son?” Indeed he is humbled. And it just may have been worth it for that.
Anyway, I think tonight I will sit and veg in front of a beautiful seascape instead of something that challenges my mind.
by Albert Thomas Derome