* No Pictures Please *

My morning started out swell. I got my mother up this morning at 7:30 and we sat down and had a some what normal breakfast. Other than her not looking the same as she did six months ago and being in a wheelchair - things seemed like they always did prior to the brain tumor. When finished with breakfast, she was eager to get on the sofa. So, I wheeled her in the living room, where I had to lift her up and put her on the sofa. My back has been killing me from all this lifting, but some sort of survival adrenaline kicks in every time. After getting her on the sofa, she stares at me blankly and says, “Did you just toss my teddy bear on the floor?”. It is now about 8:30am and I am already bawling. She then realizes what she has said and says, “never mind”.

Early this morning, I had decided against going to the National Gallery of Art in D.C.
The weather was horrid and my mood was grim. At some point after the “teddy bear incident” I kicked myself in the arse and decided to go downtown after all. Plus, I have been dying to go to the Toulouse-Lautrec show and it is closing on the 12th.

There is something about being a tourist in your own city that tends to be a bit overwhelming. You tend to think you have a different set of rights and the rules don’t necessarily apply to you. My first mistake was driving into South West, D.C. thinking I would have no problem finding a place to park. After all, I live here, I have the RIGHT to park here. I wish that was the case. It seems that tour buses are the only ones with parking rights. After some time, I found a place to park and had to walk about a mile in the rain, but at least I was not barefoot.

When I finally got to the show, I was told no pictures could be taken of the exhibit. Even after promising not use my flash the angry security guard would not change his mind. I guess the rules apply to all! The area in which they were holding the exhibit was packed. With the show opening in March, I expected less people. It must of been the day for Sunnyside Nursing home to take their field trip. Don’t get me wrong, I have a soft spot in my heart for older people. After all, I hope to be one - one day. With all the people, I could not take the time with the work that I had wanted. My viewing experience was not what I had expected. I was constantly stuck behind people, looking over their heads. I overheard one conversation that went sometime like this:

Older lady #1 leans over to Older lady #2 and says:”I heard that most of the women in these paintings are prostitutes."

Older Lady #2 :(gasp) NO WAY! These women are to beautiful to be hookers.

With that, I left and headed for a less populated part of the museum.

Now, that I am done venting, I must get back to Shklovsky. Who I am sure had some hookers of his own!