Friday Night Is Gallery Night

I spent this Friday evening watching TiVo’d Comedy Central with Toby while JP and S ran around, jumped on his couch and tested the boundaries of his unchildproofed house. They ate pizza and fought over who had the larger piece of Silly Putty after I halved it to be fair. S tormented JP for the sheer joy of it. While all of this was going on, C was out at art gallery openings with his aunt Elizabeth. So it’s happened that at least one of my kids is cooler than me. Not that this should surprise anyone, it’s just that he’s eight. I thought this would happen around his teenage years at least. I thought I had another five or so years of being the hip daddy.

He had a blast and I’m glad he had the experience. My great-grandfather was an artist, as was my grandfather, father and Elizabeth herself. C already shows an aptitude for it and a definite interest in it. I once suggested he go to New York for art school when it’s time for college. “Okay, just remind me,” he responded. Tonight when he got home he told me all about the sculpture he’d seen at David Lusk Gallery and some of the people he met. He said they served milk and apple juice. I went to the gallery’s website and he pointed out the pieces of Pinkney Herbert’s and Mary Bennett’s he’d seen and which ones he liked. They went to L Ross Gallery for another opening and he met Bobby, Mel, Dwayne and a man with a red shirt and hair that stuck out. He said Mel gave him five instead of shaking his hand, and he thought her picture was pretty. I went to the website and he pointed out the face he saw in Bobby Spillman’s piece You Said What?!

It sounded like a great evening of viewing, and learning, about art and hobnobbing with local artists, all a positive piece of his education. I asked if Elizabeth explained the art they saw to him. “Yeah, she told me it was abstract and stuff.” I know he’s looking forward to their next outing. I know he’s looking forward to their next outing more than I’m looking forward to another Friday night preparing cheese pizza and chocolate milk, answering the question What can we do now? , and mediating the great Silly Putty Wars, although Toby was a gracious host and his Guinness was cold. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of hoping I’m invited to the next round of gallery openings so I can see and be seen before I become known around town simply as C’s Father.