1) I knew life was unfair somewhere around 3rd grade. As with most major events in life, it involved a girl. She was a brunette, big brown eyes, and I had a crush. Big crush, the first of many. She told me that she’d be my girlfriend, whatever that means to a nine-year old, if I got a hit my next at-bat in kickball, which I did. That relationship lasted approximately one day, as she quickly said she was just kidding. If there’s any justice in the world, she’s met the fate of my long-time high school crush, who’s now programming computers in Reno, Nevada. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but just to say…dodged a bullet.
2) Three funny movies: 1) The Jerk. It’s just ridiculous. Steve Martin used to be really funny, and this is him at his best. 2) I have to say Super Troopers. Many will scoff, but it’s sheer brilliance. 3) Bill Cosby Himself. This one may be cheating, as it’s actually a taped concert, but it came out in the theatres, so I’ll count it. I remember rolling on the floor not being able to breathe the first time I watched this. It’s still one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. The Cos cannot be outdone.
3) My guilty pleasure bands fall in two categories: bands that rule, and that no one else likes, and bands that really do suck, but I secretly enjoy. With regards to the first, I’ll put Blue Oyster Cult, Rush, King’s X, and the Spin Doctors. The true guilty pleasure band? Genesis. It was my first CD I ever bought.
4) One of my favorite memories involving a sibling was when I went and shot pool with my brother after he’d moved out of the house on his own. It was like the beginning of our adult friendship, and I will cherish that memory always.
5) The favorite holiday is probably Thanksgiving: it’s the time when the extended family that I never see gets together, and I get to see the Louisiana family from all over creation. Aunt Fern, Aunt Phyllis, Uncle Bob, Uncle Ronnie, Lane, Huey, and all the rest. The number gets smaller every year; the older generation is nearly all gone now, which makes me more than a little sad. But it makes it more and more important to make this every year, to remember where I come from, and where my roots are.
What do you know about art? I’m not asking whether you can tell the difference between a Vermeer and a Van Gogh…I mean, if you can’t tell which one used a butter knife to paint, I can’t help you.
But seriously: what does art tell you that nothing else does?
