Monday, July 28, 2008


As a childless man over a certain age, I'm the first one to admit that I want my brother's and sister's spawn to spawn in turn. I crave the screaming of little brats and the smell of crappy diapers. Just like I did with their parents, I can cuddle, cajole and curropt....then go home smoke a joint, turn on the TV and pop a cold one. Once again, I need to lavish love and have it lavished in return on me. No judgement. No expectations. It's not that I don't get love from all of them, I do, do I put this to those of you of age? Tick-fucking -tock kids?

Since I've never hidden this weaknest, it is in this atmosphere that my brother Bird totally took advantage of me this past weekend. I've been working on this new collage and half way through it I ran out of coloring books. It is a 54X90 canvas done entirely from uncolored coloring books, with background colors of red and black. It's sharp. So last week I asked Bird if he had any old coloring books in the attic.
On Saturday we'd been drinking all day at Wolf Lake and had just recieved a phone call from Paradise pond. The Voegelins were heading our way. Bird, Duke and I headed for Uncle Jimmy's to get more beer. But before we got in the car Bird pulled out a bag of coloring books. "Before I give these to you I want you to promise one thing." he said solemnly. "What?" I said, expecting him to insist that I backfilled the septic tank, which had just overflowed and he had just dug up. (That's another story). "Just promise." he growled. "Fine." I relented, still expecting shovel detail. "I want you to give that collage to my first grandchild." I was floored. Touched. Choked up. "You got it." I said and we shook on it. What the fuck was I thinking?

Did I tell you how slick this collage is? It's the culmination of a body of work that has been distilling for a while. OK, maybe it's not Johns' flag, but it's close. And now I have to cough it up to hang in some little snotnose's nursery, in return for six dollars worth of old coloring books?

Well, I'm nothing if not a man of my word. Which ever one of you girls have a kid first, this collage will go to that child. Boy or girl, genius or passenger on the short bus, this one's for Little Booger. I promise.


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