London

When the Wife and I finally made it to the Rothko Room at the Tate Modern in London, there was a docent, a teacher, and about a dozen and a half French schoolchildren -- I would guess they were Junior High age (?).  (I also like to imagine they were from Paris, but I have no idea.)  The docent spoke in English to the children.

Rothko Room at the Tate Modern

The docent explained about the Seagram's commission, and how Rothko turned it down, and the paintings ended up here at the Tate instead.  And, he even told the possibly apocryphal story about why Rothko refused the Seagram's job, where his very large paintings would have been hung in the Four Seasons restaurant on the ground floor.  The story goes that Rothko refused the commission because he could not stand the idea that people would be eating in front of his paintings.  The docent leaned heavily on the idea that the story was not true.  Personally, I disagree.  That seems totally like something Rothko would say.

The Wife and I explored the room a bit on our own, and soaked up the religious atmosphere, but you really could not help but be sucked in to the docent's talk.  The kids were not having any of it. They were bored to distraction.  They seemed to understand the language.  That was not the problem.  They just did not "get" Rothko, or Abstract Expressionism, I suppose.  

The docent even tried some typical English laconic humor out on the kids.  I do not remember the jokes.  The Wife, the teacher, and I all thought he was very funny.  The jokes died with the kids, though.  They continued to yawn, scratch their arms, and smack their gum.  

A Monet Water Lilies panel at the Tate Modern

Finally, at one point, the docent proclaimed that just about everyone believed that the Rothko paintings at the Tate were considered the finest acquisition the museum ever made. Then, he said, he begged to differ.  He thinks the Monet Water Lilies panel is the best.  

I love the Water Lilies panel, but I got to disagree with him there on that one, too.

When we first encountered the group upon the entering the room, I thought it might spoil the experience for me.  It did not.  Everything was just fine.

Long work week just about over! 

All my love, 

Ardent (mds)

The decisions on DOMA and Prop 8 will be handed down tomorrow.

The speculation is that Roberts is reading the Prop 8 decision, and Justice Kennedy is reading the DOMA decision.  I repeat, that is only speculation.

My personal gut reaction to those rumors, is Prop 8's defenders will be shown to have no standing for the case, meaning a narrow victory for Marriage Equality in California (or not.) Good grief! Lawyers and Judges, the law! What a mess!

And, as for a Kennedy majority decision on DOMA, who the frick knows? Literally, it could go either way.  Although one SCOTUSblog expert seems to suggest that Kennedy could be writing the decision in favor of destroying DOMA, preferring that Marriage be a strictly state by state issue, wanting the Federal Government out of it, altogether.

Meanwhile the Supremes did some slick dancing around and over the Voting Rights Act, saying that section V of it is constitutional, and needed, but that section IV is not.  Section IV is the part that made some states have to get their new voting laws checked by the federal government before they could apply them.  That is all gone now as of today.  The Supremes insisted (5-4, Ginsburg dissented, and she is pissed) that it would be up to the Congress now to make new laws re keeping a watchful thorough eye for any racist voter suppression laws.  Which ain't gonna happen of course, so, that was a big big victory for voter suppression today.

Tomorrow be the day, folks!

All my love,
Ardent

In just a little over three

Weeks it will be Pride here in the wonderful Bay Area.

Which could prove interesting, because do not forget, that sometime v soon, around the time that SCOTUS will completely eviscerate the Voting Rights Act, SCOTUS will also rule on Prop 8.

Literally, any day now.

I am sticking by my original positions:  They will either rule that the Prop 8 folks have no standing, meaning that the most recent court decision will be upheld, i.e. Prop 8 was unconstitutional in the state of California, and the Prop 8 folks would have to launch yet another appeal using a different method of attack -- and we would desperately need the California Supremes to lift the stay on Prop 8, so that could Marriage Equality would be the law of the land until the Prop 8 folks get their sorry act together for another stab at hatefulness.

Or, it could play out like this.

This could be one of the greatest Prides ever.  Or, an ugly depressed angry one.

Stay tuned, kids.

Mwah, ... 

"Hope you're ready for my kind of love" Part One

I think my very first post on my old and extremely " ... not quite dead" (h/t Pythons, Holy Grail) blog, The Death of Irony, was written on a July 4th inventory.  And, I generally get a post published right before every inventory, still.  (I just checked.  It was my first post, July 6, 2008.)

I would really like to talk about the GOPs lovely little War on Women, which is legitimately happening right now, all over the country but this is my birthday week, and everything has been so wonderful in my life lately, that I will spare my wrath for those assholes until next week.  Plus, I will have plenty of time available to me to do so.  (I am taking my normal Birthday Staycation, which I do every year.)

These are the Rothko rooms at the Tate Gallery in London.  Absolutely stunning and life-changing, walking through there.

Instead, I figure I will tell a story about Renee, about our "courtship", if you will.  Renee and I would sort of get to know each other on breaks.  She'd hang out with her friend, Karen, eating sandwiches, and smoking.  I have always been "aloof" on my breaks, still am.  I do not really want to talk to anybody.  I would rather play on the computer or read books or newspapers.  So, when Karen and Renee would be outside I would be essentially eavesdropping on their conversations, or actually reading the SFChron or that Ealing book I was obsessed with at the time.  (RIP Googie Withers.)  And during those conversations was when I really started to fancy her.  I liked her because she had a lot of attitude, she was no goody-goody or diplomat.  Yet, despite that, you could also tell that she really cared about the under-dog, too; someone "who has a lot on their mind" was her polite euphemism for folks of that sort.

I decided to pursue her and I basically told the entire Specialty team what my intentions were.  In fact, I believe that the entire Bakery/Prepared Foods/Meat/Specialty half of the store probably knew of my pursuit.

Those were crazy days at the Walnut Creek store, the store had not even celebrated its first birthday yet.  There were a lot of parties, a lot of drink, and a lot of drugs, too.  Renee and I bumped in to each other at these "gatherings" all the time, but she really could not be bothered with me, and had other boys on her mind.

One other thing:  I had had this health problem on and off for years and no doctor could figure it out.  It would make these terrible rashes on my face and other parts of my body.  So, not only was I not v attractive, I was also horribly, brutally self-conscious about it and would be even more aloof when I looked really bad.  I would literally hide on my breaks, over by the office buildings, and not really speak to anyone but customers.  (Finally, a doctor at the City Hospital in Oakland diagnosed my issue correctly -- I "suffer" from seborrhoeic dermatitis -- and prescribed cortisone cream and told me the only shampoos I could use and I have been fine ever since.)

My "cure" came right before the Food Hole Holiday Party, so, all cleared up, I was bursting with confidence and told everyone on the Specialty Team (and my buddy, Rachael, in produce) that my goal was to kiss Renee at the Holiday Party.

Well, that did not happen.  Renee and I never seemed to have any opportunity to talk (or, she might have been avoiding me, period) at the party until we met at the bar, both of us ordering drinks.  She probably ordered a Manhattan and I probably ordered a beer and bourbon.  She looked me straight in the eye and said, "Hey, you're that guy who's always mean.  What's your deal?"

That was our first real conversation, I suppose.

I might have told her then about my health issue or maybe I didn't, I do not remember.  (Sexy, hunh? And smooth.  How did she not fall in love with me that night?)

But any kind of foot in the door is a foot in the door, right? 


We eventually started spending breaks together, talking a bit, smoking, etc, ... And, all the while I was very up-front, practically blunt.  I told her (all the time) that I liked her, that I wanted to be her boyfriend, that I was tired of one-night stands, that I was loyal, that I was dependable, that I was about the fucking smartest guy she would ever meet, that she should like me too, and on and on and on, ...

I had a v interesting strategy, wouldn't you say?

That is my old Berkeley jacket.  Notice that I insisted they stitch M. Modano for my name.  

My next big shot was at a New Year's Party, but that was a bust, as well.  Though, back at work, I had some success with a little Rock 'n Soul singing/dancing performance I put on for her in the back downstairs hallway.  I was looking for beer to throw, she was going to the Bakery freezer, and they were playing Johnny Taylor's sizzling hot live version of Jody's Got Your Girl and Gone. I did the whole "rap" part for her, complete with the scream at the end.

"You know what I like about Jody?/You know what I like about Jody?/You know what I like about Jody?/You know what I like about Jody?/Has enough sense/To express himself/Tell her how cute she look/Tell her how pretty she walk/Tell her how cute she talk/Tell her how ... OOAWWWWWWWGH!"

She was a little impressed even if she didn't admit it.  I was so convinced, so confident that I would win her over in the end that I had no reservations at all about recommending a wine for her for a romantic dinner at her house with another boy.  (I recommended Louis Latour Domaine de Valmoissine, probably the 1998 or 1999 vintage.)  I knew I would get my chance and that I'd stick the landing when I got it.  

************

But, it is getting close to time for me to go and count wine bottles.  I do not sell Dom de Valmoissine anymore.  

So, this will be Part One.  Part Two will be published soon, and it will tell the tale of My Big Chance, the jacket pictured above, crazy Bernard, Valentine's Day 2002, Dan's, La Scala, and anything else I can remember.

I love you all, but I especially love my Sweetie.

HAPPY INVENTORY, EVERYONE!

--AH