Warm November

Earlier in October, I had begged for a warmer Fall season so that I could milk being in a t shirt and jeans for as long as possible. I got my wish and it has lasted well into November. Temps have been in the 60's and I have been nothing but happy.

Today, the cold has reared it's ugly ass head. As I sit comfortably in this coffee shop, sipping coffee and people watching, the back of my mind is a flash of hatred for cold weather. 42 degrees isn't freezing. But it's still 42 fucking degrees and I therefore must hate it as much as my psyche will allow.

In a fit of rebellion, I still put on a light hoodie instead of putting on something heavier to protect my fragile skin from the relatively frigid conditions. I wasn't about to let mother nature win this one. Nature can suck it. I'll put on a light hoodie and complain about how cold it is the whole time. I'm not above being petty and whiney. Everyone in earshot will hear my warriors cry against this foul weather. I'll implore everyone to let their cars idle while throwing out non-biodegradable plastics into nature. Lets warm this earth to dangerous levels and bring back Summer a few weeks early and perhaps bring it back for the rest of our foreseeable lives. Lets warm this earth until the temperature cooks our brains like oatmeal in a microwave.

Maybe that's a little drastic........maybe.

But still, I protest and there is nothing you can do about it except not read this post.

Wallet Pictures

The bread and butter of today's "witty" observations usually pivot on how cell phones have changed our lives. Most observations usually talk about the death of the landline, the payphone, and not knowing where people are at all times. Today, I realized yet another victim that has been murdered by the modern cell phone: Wallet pictures. 

For so long, the picture in the wallet was a staple in hack 90's comedy. Men would draw out their huge George Costanza wallets (see below) to show off pictures of their children or loved ones and it would essentially bond them to the viewer. But that is no more. Wallets have been streamlined to thinner pieces of leather as it is.  There are no more big wallets that could keep condoms, cards, receipts, and photos in one inconvenient piece of baggage.

Gone are the days of men pulling out their wallets to show off hard copies of photos..........come to think of it, most hard copies of photos are gone.............but that's a different story anyway. Instead, we no longer reach into our back pocket, but our front one. We reach for our cell phone to show photos of people. 

I'm not against this. Big wallets were a pain in the ass (literally). Cell phones can do so much for us now. We are now to the point where we can buy things on our cell phone or use our phones as credit cards at participating vendors. It's only a matter of time before our license ID's will be in there. We won't have to carry pieces of thin plastic to prove who we are. Or maybe we will. Who knows. I'm terrible at predicting things. 

Anyway, I think we should all have a moment of silence for the wallet photo and giant wallets everywhere. Cell phones have taken your place, fallen soldier. 

Gone but not forgotten. 

Bad Artists

There are a lot of "artists" out there who don't realize that being a self-proclaimed artist (or as some people call it "artsy") doesn't automatically qualify you as being good. Sure, some pretentious prick could argue that art is subjective and that good is just a matter of personal perception. They are partially right, and probably trying to validate their artistic worth. But mostly, they are wrong. So very wrong.

I don't think I need to bother pointing out that great works of art have been called "great" for a reason. Great paintings, great literature, great music, great sculptures...........I'm sure you thought of a few great works just by reading that. Now think of how many of those great things were made by friends, acquaintances, or regular jackoffs who fancy themselves "artists." I'm going to take a crazy guess and say that none of them were made by people you knew.

I can already imagine another pretentious asshole already trying to fight with the argument that art doesn't have to be validated to be good. Someone might even be tempted to talk about Fridah Kahlo or Vincent Van Gogh, whose works of art went unappreciated for years after they died. There are exceptions of course. But exceptions imply rarity, not commonality. If validity wasn't important, why do so many artists make their work public and so easily accessible? Because they relish criticism so much. Hell no. Artists make their work public for the same reason anyone does any sort of work. Peer validity is important, no matter who you talk to. They want to hear and know their work is good and not wasted.

But have any these artists really come to think they aren't any good at being an artist? I mean seriously not good at all? Being more inclined to be artsy doesn't automatically predisposition you to be being good at at. I know quite a few people who fancy themselves this way. But the sad truth is, they aren't any good at any of it. They dabble in all of it and call themselves "eclectic" or "well-rounded." Barf. Bad writing, bad photography, bad paintings, bad everything. I'm by no means an art critic, or an artist for that matter, and certainly have no room to talk. I don't enjoy paintings or art galleries. I don't care about photography. I do love good writing, film and strong classical music. But it doesn't take someone with a useless art degree to know when someone is so objectively (not subjectively) bad at the craft they pursue. It's sad really. You know a bad painting when you see it. You might try to rationalize that it's "new age" or "artist perception" or that it's simply not your cup of tea. But deep down, you know it sucks. You know when someone really has no talent at photography. These days, any two-bit dumbass has a fancy camera or smartphone equivalent and fancy themselves as a  "photographer." But taking pictures all the time, applying preset filters,  and call it it "art" is a bit of a stretch.  I think we all know a "writer" whose writing is a creative miscarriage. Everyone thinks they can be a writer just because they can put together a sentence without grammatical error or todays shorthand text slang. Writing is so much more than just words being put on a page.

But likely at the encouragement of well-meaning friends and family, these people continue on with producing their version of art. The only justification I can make on their behalf is that they can't do anything else. Their work means something to them, good or bad. Or provides an outlet that they need. I can't talk down to that. I understand that not everyone is an astronaut, a doctor, or businessman. The world needs artists. Without art, our world would be hopelessly boring and perhaps worse off than it is today.

But the world could probably stand to have a few less shitty artists anyway.