Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

Don’t Tell ME You Can’t Tell I Teach at an Art School!

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(Van Gogh)

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(Michelangelo)

Last evening, I grandson-sat Daniel (8) and Gabriel (5) while daughter Amy and son-in-law Orte went fancy gallivanting around town.

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First, we played a quick game of basketball in the 110 real feel (Neal feel!) Savannah heat, quickly realized we were idiots and ran back inside.

Then we ate a hasitily prepared supper (I like the word “supper” in the summer south so much better than sometimes-pretentious “dinner”), consisting of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, and scrambled eggs and microwaveable bacon.  (Okay, so maybe not the healthiest Savannah summer supper choice.)

Afterwards, I broke up a third fight over what level to play a video game (Skylanders?  Huh?) and threatened pain if they didn’t stop.  (Do grandchildren anywhere take grandparents’ threats seriously?)

Finally I suggested drawing pictures.  Daniel immediately bought into the peace ploy, quickly pulling out the tools.

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We went to work.

D and G:

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D:

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G:

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Me:

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To be honest, I think I felt more pressure since I teach as an adjunct at an art school (SCAD–Savannah College of Art and Design).  Allright, so maybe I teach ESL (English as a Second Language) there.  But still, it’s an art school.

Daniel’s first (of nine pieces!) finished work of the evening:

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“Spyro Super Fire Balls.”

Gabriel’s first (and only): “Morning Apple Orchard” (which looks a little like “Spyro Super Fire Balls”):

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(“This makes my hand hurt,” he exclaimed, upon completion–and immediately lay down under the dining room table to rest.)

My first work, “Spotted Dog with a Bad Attitude”:

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The muses inspired, and the art continued to roll out.

Daniel:  “Let me brainstorm on what to call my next one.”  (Two second pause.)  “Sharp Tooth Spyro!”  And so it was.

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“Mega Bolt Cynder”:

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“Destroyer Horn Spyro”:

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Daniel wasn’t the only one the muses attended to:

“Green Tree Circle of Life”:

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“Self Portrait”:

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When we finished, Daniel and I curated an art gallery in the sun room.  (We barely heard Gabriel as he kept yelling from the playroom:  “Stop drawing!  Stop drawing!”)

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At one point Daniel looked at me and said, “This is SO much fun!  Don’t you agree, Abu?”

My artistic heart melted.

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Inappropriate Easter Humor

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Inappropriate Post Valentine’s Day Post

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I have had a really challenging head cold this Valentine’s Weekend–which has gotten me in sort of a bad mood, so I decided to take it out on Valentine’s Day.

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I’m kidding (well, not about the cold).  I hope you’ve had a grand weekend.

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There’s No Place Like Home

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So this week I found and bought my dream home.

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Okay, maybe it’s a fixer-upper, but still.

Here I am churning butter.

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And making corn husk angels for the nearby mountain children.

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And, well, enjoying the cabin entertainment.

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Time for bed.

 

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Ya’ll come visit sometime.

(Callaway Gardens, GA.  The Pioneer Log cabin.)

 

 

Just Be

Enjoy this incredible holiday season we are in. Why?

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Owl Be

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Owl be sad if you don’t have a Happy Thanksgiving.

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That Bass

 

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So this afternoon I picked up grandsons Daniel (7) and Gabriel (4) at school, as I usually do on Mondays and Wednesdays.  They are loads of energetic, joyful fun (well, except when they are trying to reach across their booster seats and hit each other in the face, and I have to threaten to call the cops).  Today, after Daniel went on and on and on about how he could most definitely beat any fifty boys in his school in a footrace, Gabriel finally loudly interrupted him and asked me, “Abu, could you please put on some rock music?”

Since I just had Susan Boyle handy, I had to turn on the radio (did you KNOW that cars still have radios?!), and found “Eye of the Tiger,” the lyrics of which both boys immediately starting perfectly belting out: “I am a champion, and you’re gonna hear me roar!”

“Aww, so cute,” I thought.  “So positive, so uplifting.”

The next song that blasted in my little Scion I had heard only once before, back in October, at a quirky little place on Bourbon Street in New Orleans called Café Lafitte in Exile: “All About That Bass.”

As soon as the tune started, both boys started yelling, “It’s all about that bass, bout that bass, NO TROUBLE!  Yes, it’s all about that bass, bout that bass, NO TROUBLE.”  (I found out later that the actual word there is “treble.”)

In case, you haven’t heard it, here’s Meghan Trainor singing her hit.

(It’s sorta PG 13ish, so be forewarned.)

(Note to self: remind the boys’ parents how old the boys are.)

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What a difficult-to-get-out-of-your-head tune!

And before I realized that Meghan had used a couple of less-than-four-year-oldish-appropriate words, we were in the boys’ driveway, stopped, listening to the final minute of the song, while mom stood at the front door awaiting a kiss from her boys.

When I got back to my place, I COULD NOT get the song out of my head.  So I YouTubed it.  (Can you use YouTube as a verb?)

BIG MISTAKE.  There are upteen versions and parodies of “All About That Bass.”

Here’s my favorite:  “I Just Need Some Space” by a mom, singing about the travails of motherhood.

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And here’s a Guy Version:

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And, look, here’s a version with Jimmy Fallon, The Roots and Meghan:

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Okay, I have to stop this.  It’s getting ridiculous.  It ain’t ALL about the bass.

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