Here he is again, the way he sat in his frame on the front room bookcases all through my childhood. About as cute as it gets, in my opinion.
Gerald Ford has finally been laid to rest. Twenty-one gun salute, the whole nine yards. A decent human being, by all accounts. I am surprised to feel nostalgic about a Repulican politician. When I saw his college letter M draped near the coffin, it brought tears to my eyes. It also made me wonder whatever happened to my father's letter A from University of Arizona, where he captained the polo team. I went through everything after Mom's death and it never turned up. I do have the A blanket that he got for being the person who came the farthest distance for the Homecoming Game my freshman year at the U. of A. He had come to visit me while he was on a business trip. The blanket is laprobe size and very heavy navy blue wool, almost like felt, with the red A sewed in the center. I keep it in the cedar chest my mother in law brought to her marriage. In the January, 2007 issue of Art in America, which came today, there is a report on the Gwangju Biennale, which many of you may be forgiven for never having heard of. It's a major art show in Korea, with artists selected from many countries. The main prize was given to two artists, one of whom was Korean artist Song Dong. He gave top credit to his mom, Zhao Xiang Yuan, a nice gesture, considering the exhibit is very neatly arranged stacks (and a couple of chests) of all the things she has saved over fifty years while she lived through many terrifying times in Korea. It has given her a deep sense that anything might come in handy. The article called the exhibit, notable in a single small photograph for its neatly arranged stacking, "the biennial's most poignant work." I wish I could see it. Often this kind of art does not appeal to me, but this was different. Good night.
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