This is my idea of a nightmare.  Not the mouth surgery Fritz was having today, but the waiting room.   Up in Latham in a not-so-new business development.  I had to wait while they surgified Fritz, in the waiting room.  No dropping off and picking up.  Sitting in the waiting room.


As if the chairs weren’t bad enough, there were on the walls that I looked up at really bad reproductions of Gauguin and van Gogh on the walls.  The carpet was a dull brown tone on tone with an ugly attempt as post modern patterning, ugh.  To have a table to put my tea and knitting, I am sitting under the wall mounted TV.  And it is tuned to Hoda Kotbe and Kathy Lee Whoever-she-is and they’re giggling loudly, talking about drinking, Black Friday starting at 7:00 am on Thanksgiving Day, and bad Halloween jokes (like telling the kids you ate all their Halloween candy.  Kill me NOW!

Oh god it gets worse and worse.  I wonder if I could I kill the TV?  What would they do to me if I pulled out a club and beat it into oblivion?    I’m looking more closely at the repros and have decided that they aren’t even reproductions, but they are someone’s attempt at  imitating the style of van Gogh and Gauguin (or maybe its Rousseau).  It’s awful in any case.  And when they finally called me to go in and get Fritz, on the wall behind me, a bad attempt at Seurat.  Groan. . .


 There were a few – well, one – saving moments.  A woman came with her son and asked about the shawl I’m making.   Turns out she has about as big a yarn habit as I do, so we had some nice conversation about yarn storage, designing and selling stuff, and how we deal with spouses and our vast swathes of stuff.  Sweet moments that almost drowned out the Hoda-Kathy thing.  But they paid their bill and left, and I recommenced fantasizing about killing the television.  I can still envision the bits of glass and transistors and plastic and wires and other bits of debris raining down on the ugly chairs in that waiting room.  I can almost see the nearest of the bad art being shredded by the flying debris.  If I were artistically talented I could render a photoshopped picture of the aftermath.

(please scroll down)


 Now here are some pictures of REAL paintings by: vanGogh, Gauguin, Rousseau and Seurat.






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