Slip and Slide
When I was a kid I asked my mother what she thought when I was born. She replied, “You looked like a wrinkly, old man.” It seemed opposite of what is usually said, “You were the most beautiful baby in the world.” But as time has passed, I realized I’ve maintained my looks compared to all those beautiful others who have lost theirs. Thanks mom. You were the best.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And I can’t see it with the new art installation at city hall. I would have preferred an installation where all the parking meters have been removed. That would have been a better use of the space. I’m supportive of minimalist art. By definition, minimalist art does not require spending taxpayer money on it. According to an alert Indy reader comment, it appears we have spent $25,000 on it. For those, who fall in love with it, be prepared to get your art hearts broken. It’s a rental. Here today. Gone to Barstow tomorrow. Oh, your achy breaky hearts.
There was a time long ago, when I use to have change in my pockets. I enjoyed jingling the change. I liked the sound it made. I bought a lot of penny candy that cost, well, a penny. Oh my, how times have changed. Today, elected representatives jingle your change and rent stupid stuff with it. You know we could have bought a lot of marked up penny candy at the Candy Baron for $25,000. Laguna area dentists support this position.
A Los Angeles firm did the installation. Their website states, “Their adaptive space-frame technology is an ideal solution for the creation of iconic art and architecture elements for permanent and itinerant applications.” Sounds good. But when I checked the image portfolio of other art installations I couldn’t help but be reminded of recent MRI scans of my lower GI.
The intestinal similarity makes me think their muse might be the blow up guy that waves all over the place at car dealerships. I think the wavy guy has branched out into the arts. If this art is what we want, I would encourage the city to consider a slip and slide installation next. It’s a natural follow up. Children love participatory art and art teachers agree it beats finger painting clean up.
Oh, the sound of my pockets maddening silence. I pull out the lint that’s left. I think I might knit a sweater. Wait. A stitch in time saves nine. I’ll get other residents to donate their lint, too. We will knit 50 red bags with white lettering that reads, “Out of Order.” We will rent this work as modern art to the city for $50,000. The red bags will be installed over the city hall parking meters. Everyone will rejoice over our sweet success at the Candy Baron. And of course, area dentists are welcomed to hand out business cards there. Remember “Get cavities local. Fix cavities local.”
Crantz tells the Indy that as a teenager he worked as a wavy guy at a car dealership. He was a natural. He was full of hot air.
