Strange Day

First order of business was to docent a group of students through the dolls, then a break (make coffee, get the mail, have a smoke with Sara) then docent the same group through the rest of the museum. I was in pretty good form. After lunch I needed to make out loan forms for a law firm borrowing some paintings, then get together a tool kit, truck the paintings over, and hang them. One of the associates is a board member and their offices did need some art work. Day was almost over, too late to start a project, so TR and I talked about music for the Emily Project. After work we met Clay and Asa for a couple of beers. They all left, I went outside for a smoke then back inside to listen to Jack Vetter and friends make music. The owners were sitting at the far end of the bar, so I sat with them, friendly chat, they bought me an Irish whiskey and shared their dinner. The music was great. Some blues, some jazzy instrumental stuff, a very good cover of Dylan's "Knocking On Heaven's Door". The rare night out for me and I enjoyed myself. It started raining, so I went back to the museum, to get my pack, and called home; a busy signal, which means my phone is still down. I blow off going home at all, probably couldn't get up the driveway, and no phone so I couldn't send. Watch an episode of "The Glades" on Hulu while I dig out a metal splinter (goddamn cable and pulleys) from the web between thumb and first finger on my left hand. Been bothering me for days. The kids liked me today. They do little evaluations of their museum experience, and I was mentioned quite favorably in most of them. I love docenting, each time is a little piece of performance art. I treat the kids just like I treat adults, don't talk down to them, use a few mild terms, point out that some of the dolls are anatomically correct. I know the work, I make it a point to know the work, and the kids can see that my interest is genuine. They think I'm cool, which I probably am, beyond their wildest dreams, and the fact that they think that, coupled with the fact that I work in an art museum seems to engage their interest. One of the young girls, Pegi said, these kids were 16 and 17, had a 'thing' for me, which I translate as her having a problem with her dad. That I care about art makes an impression, that it might possibly matter. Gets me through the day.