Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.

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We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.

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 Nice is different than good.

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Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

= Jennifer =

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

  

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Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

= Jenny the Pirate =

Hoist The Colors

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I am a Blue Star Mother

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Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

= Ralph Waldo Emerson =

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Represent:

The Black Velvet Coat

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks
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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts

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Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."

And We'll Sing It All The Time
  • Elements Series: Fire
    Elements Series: Fire
    by Peter Kater
  • Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    by Danny Wright
  • Grace
    Grace
    Old World Records
  • The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    Stone Angel Music, Inc.
  • Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Real Music
  • Copia
    Copia
    Temporary Residence Ltd.
  • The Poet: Romances for Cello
    The Poet: Romances for Cello
    Spring Hill Music
  • Nightfall
    Nightfall
    Narada Productions, Inc.
  • Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    RCA
  • The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    by William Voegeli
  • The Art of Memoir
    The Art of Memoir
    by Mary Karr
  • The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    by Emily Dickinson
  • Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    by John W. Harper
  • On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    by William Zinsser
  • Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    by Steven Milloy
  • The Amateur
    The Amateur
    by Edward Klein
  • Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    by Matt Barber, Paul Hair
  • In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    by Dr. Laura Schlessinger
  • Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    by Tod Benoit
  • Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    by Candace Savage
  • Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    by John Marzluff Ph.D., Tony Angell
  • Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    by Andrew Breitbart
  • 11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    by Paul Kengor
  • Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    by Bernd Heinrich
  • Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    by Matthew Rolston
  • Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    by Todd Harra, Ken McKenzie
  • America's Steadfast Dream
    America's Steadfast Dream
    by E. Merrill Root
  • Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    by Alexandra Day
  • Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    by Lynne Truss
  • The American Way of Death Revisited
    The American Way of Death Revisited
    by Jessica Mitford
  • In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    Master Books
  • Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    by Peter Schweizer
  • Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    by Brannon Howse
  • Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    by Eleanor Alexander
Easy On The Goods
  • Waiting for
    Waiting for "Superman"
    starring Geoffrey Canada, Michelle Rhee
  • The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    starring Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Debbie Reynolds, Barry Fitzgerald, Rod Taylor
  • Bernie
    Bernie
    starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine, Matthew McConaughey
  • Remember the Night
    Remember the Night
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, Beulah Bondi, Elizabeth Patterson, Sterling Holloway
  • The Ox-Bow Incident
    The Ox-Bow Incident
    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
  • The Bad Seed
    The Bad Seed
    starring Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack, Henry Jones, Eileen Heckart, Evelyn Varden
  • Shadow of a Doubt
    Shadow of a Doubt
    starring Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Macdonald Carey, Patricia Collinge, Henry Travers
  • The More The Merrier
    The More The Merrier
    starring Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, Charles Coburn, Bruce Bennett, Ann Savage
  • Act of Valor
    Act of Valor
    starring Alex Veadov, Roselyn Sanchez, Nestor Serrano
  • Deep Water
    Deep Water
    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
  • Sunset Boulevard
    Sunset Boulevard
    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
  • Penny Serenade
    Penny Serenade
    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
  • Double Indemnity
    Double Indemnity
    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
  • Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    starring Gary Anthony Williams
  • Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Passion River
  • It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert
  • Stella Dallas
    Stella Dallas
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
  • The Iron Lady
    The Iron Lady
    starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Harry Lloyd, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach
  • Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    starring Peter Sallis, Anne Reid, Sally Lindsay, Melissa Collier, Sarah Laborde
  • The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    starring Red Balloon
  • Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    starring William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger, Robert Strauss, Harvey Lembeck
  • The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    starring Ginger Rogers, Ray Milland
  • My Dog Skip
    My Dog Skip
    starring Frankie Muniz, Diane Lane, Luke Wilson, Kevin Bacon
  • Sabrina
    Sabrina
    starring Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, Walter Hampden, John Williams
  • The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    starring Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, Shirley Temple, Rudy Vallee, Ray Collins
  • Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    starring Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Jack Davenport
  • Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    starring Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Gladys Cooper, John Loder
  • The Trip To Bountiful
    The Trip To Bountiful
  • Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
    Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999-2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple. Easy To Remember.

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One Word, Luv: Curiosity
Monday
May252009

NO, Mr. President

Let's have the courage to stand up for the little babies at every opportunity.

Monday
May252009

Spitfires And White Cliffs Of Dover

If you like airplanes and nostalgia, you'll love this short film.

Happy Memorial Day!

Saturday
May232009

Honor Our Heroes

Monday
May182009

You May Kill Me But You May Never Insult Me

The title of this post is a line I stole from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, known familiarly as Pirates 3, or, if you're in the loop (as of course I am), succinctly and to-the-pointedly, P3. It's all good. And yes, because I know you're dying to ask, I do think there will be a P4.

The subject line is uttered by (who else) Captain Jack Sparrow, darling dreadlocked doppelgänger of adorable Johnny Depp (or vice versa, and who cares), to his longtime nemesis, Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company.

As, like Captain Jack Sparrow, I do not care to be insulted, I make every effort to be polite. However, there are times when, I confess, I am less than cordial. Most often this occurs when I find myself the barely-welcome guest of an art museum or behind the wheel of my car, navigating the treacherous lanes of central South Carolina ... where you are as likely to chance upon a primate driver as a human one.

No insult to monkeys intended.

You rampallian! You fustilarian!

But since I admire the works of William Shakespeare (especially the sonnets), and even cleverly fashioned my vanity plate after a line from Hamlet (Act 3, Scene 1), and since The Bard was nothing if not a skilled crafter of elegantly rancid rejoinders, I bring you a post containing some of the most pithy pejoratives you will ever encounter this side of Stratford-on-Avon.

You may wonder how I came to be in possession of this treasure trove of tart-tongued taunts. Remember when I was so rudely insulted while taking in a hoity-toity exhibit at the Columbia Museum of Art? You know, the time when a gender-challenged lackey enjoined me to cease and desist pointing at the paintings, and I was disinclined to acquiesce to her its request?

Well, let me tell you. After I had exhausted the industrial-strength light sword that is my index finger, and we had absorbed all the oil-based impressionism and post-impressionism and realism we could possibly retain, my mother announced that she wanted to do what we should have done all along: go shopping.

Specifically, she was keen to visit the museum gift shop. "YES!" I agreed, knowing we'd have a marvelous time there. And so we waved goodbye to all the long-tailed primates in blue embroidered coats (well, except for that ONE), and followed the yellow brick road to the postage-stamp-sized souvenir shop embedded in the museum's main floor.

I had worked my way nearly around the entire perimeter of the tiny establishment when I saw it: a Shakespearean Insults mug which was clearly destined to be mine. You may view a mug exactly like it, and even purchase one for yourself -- or a fortunate friend! -- by clicking here.

But in case/even if you don't feel like doing that, allow me to share with you the insightful and breviloquent barbs so brightly inscribed upon my mug's ceramic surface.

If your gigglebox is easily upset, the trick is not to read any of these while possessed of a mouthful of coffee. And as you read, it might be fun to envision your own nefarious nemesis, and imagine the look you would receive if, without warning, you hurled one of these bad boys in their astonished face.

{<>><<>} <>><<> {<>><<>} <>><<> {<>><<>}

You rampallian! You fustilarian! <>><<> Light of brain <>><<> Bolting-hutch of beastliness <>><<> Mountain of mad flesh <>><<> Long-tongu'd babbling gossip

Veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth <>><<> I do desire that we may be better strangers <>><<> O gull, O dolt, as ignorant as dirt <>><<> Clod of wayward marl

Roast-meat for worms <>><<> Infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker <>><<> Lump of foul deformity <>><<> All the infections that the sun soaks up

Elvish-mark'd abortive, rooting hog <>><<> The soul of this man is his clothes <>><<> Quintessence of dust <>><<> Canker-blossom <>><<> Poisonous bunch-back'd toad

A fusty nut with no kernel <>><<> Foot-licker <>><<> Lewdly inclin'd <>><<> Beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave <>><<> Thou art a boil, a plague sore

And I saved these, my favorites, for last. Think Nancy Pelosi, or the terrorists she so earnestly endeavors to champion:

False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand <>><<> Highly fed and lowly taught <>><<> Not so much brain as ear wax <>><<> All eyes and no sight <>><<> Anointed sovereign of sighs and groans

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As you were.

Tuesday
May122009

The Art Of Going Rogue

Last Saturday I very nearly was ejected from an art museum. True story.

In celebration of Mother's Day, my mother, TG, three of our four children, and I paid rather dearly for the privilege of experiencing Turner to Cézanne ... an "important" collection of impressionist and post-impressionist paintings appearing briefly at the Columbia Museum of Art.

(Whether the exhibit was in actuality important is something I will leave to the experts. I am a mere dilettante; most of the art on my walls came from Hobby Lobby.)

It was enough for me that there were a couple of Renoirs (most notably La Parisienne, pictured above), a few Monets, a sprinkling of Millets, one or two Cézannes, and a single van Gogh (Rain - Auvers, 1890).

That morning I awoke anticipating what was sure to be a delirious rush of endorphins induced by concentrated and purposeful exposure to high artistic culture. I got dolled up and wore a big straw hat to lend myself what I hoped was a sophisticatedly bohemian cachet.

Just like when I go to Wal-Mart.

Not being any stripe of a shrinking violet, however, my cover might have been blown early on. Story of my life ... also true, as is any self-respecting life story.

I became captivated by a Daumier depicting a shepherdess.

Having arrived at the museum in the late morning, our little gang ran a gauntlet of smiling volunteers spaced every few dozen feet, walked upstairs, relinquished our tickets, and entered the hushed gallery.

We were provided with no art-viewing tutorial of any variety before gaining access to the actual pictures we had collectively forked over eighty-seven dollars to see. You'll need to remember those little details.

Apparently it pays to look as though you know what you're doing. Or maybe not.

The first thing we noticed was that all of the magnificent mid- to late-nineteenth century oil paintings were framed behind glass. Just like my stuff from Hobby Lobby!

(Tacky. Make that über-tacky. Although I have never been across the puddle, never darkened the doorways of the Tate or the Louvre, I have visited a couple of tonier museums stateside in my day -- including Chicago's Art Institute and the National Gallery -- and glass in the frames was a first for me.)

Part of my considerable excitement in viewing these paintings was the prospect of being able to clearly see the brushstrokes made by temperamental geniuses many decades before I was born. Glass makes that impossible. You could be looking at a poster ... from Hobby Lobby.

But because we had no choice, we suspended disbelief and attempted to look past the glass to the beautiful artworks within. Not so difficult, as it turned out ... and at times downright delightful.

We had passed from the first room of pictures to the second (of six) when it happened.

I became captivated by a Daumier depicting a shepherdess accompanied by -- wait for it! -- sheep, and a sheepdog. They were just sort of moseying down a lane (as they do), but the sheep were rather marvelously rendered, in my opinion.

Two sheep in particular instantly became dear to me, and by this time my mother had come alongside, and I was exclaiming over the detail of one sheep's cute face when I did it: I pointed at the sheep so that my mom would have no doubt which one I meant.

And when I did, my index finger came within, oh, three inches of the GLASS.

Baaaaaad.

Suddenly we were made to feel like criminals.

Faster than you can say drop cloth, he she it was by my side. I mean no disrespect (sort of), but honestly, folks, it makes me nervous when I cannot readily discern -- i.e. at a glance -- whether a person is male or female.

In my view, androgyny is even tackier than oil paintings hidden behind glass. There; I've said it and I'm not sorry.

Said Genderless Museum Muscle began to chide me for failing to maintain a proper distance between my person and the painting.

"But I never touched it," I said. "All I did was point, and I can't hurt it by pointing. I paid to see the pictures and I'm going to look at the pictures!" I may have gotten a tad bit animated, as is my wont when I am being harassed.

I think I let it be known, Garbo-esque, that I preferred to be left alone ... a faint wish that fell on deaf ears.

"But you got closer than twelve inches," it iterated. Then, ominously: "The cameras."

The cameras? The cameras what? The cameras are on? The cameras like sheep? The cameras can't see past my hat? The cameras aren't into androgyny any more than I am?

We may never know. The sexually ambiguous culture bouncer retreated to a doorway and commenced surveilling me the way a great big crow eyeballs doggy kibble served al fresco. Waiting, no doubt, for me to go all renegade recidivist and POINT MY FINGER AT A GLASSED CANVAS AGAIN.

Funny ... when the Columbia Museum of Art strategically placed massive LED billboards all over town touting the importance of this exhibit, clearly they wanted us to take careful notice of that.

When we visited their website in order to discern the who-what-where-when-how-and-how-much of this event, it was obvious they wanted us to absorb that information.

When TG opened his wallet and handed them his credit card to purchase the tickets, they accepted with alacrity and, I have no doubt, have already spent the money.

But when we presented ourselves at the museum and were ENJOYING the actual paintings, suddenly we were made to feel like criminals. Like unwashed and unrepentant boors who, with our very eyebeams and the nearness of our index fingers, were capable of doing irreparable harm to the artwork ... not to mention the delicate psyches of watchdogs both electronic and eunuch-ey.

I even pointed a few more times.

I daresay when Renoir, van Gogh, Daumier, Corot, Millet, Monet, Manet, Bevan, Smith, Cézanne, Pissarro, Whistler, Turner -- and countless other brilliant artists -- conceived, dreamt of, studied for, executed, perfected, agonized over, and ruined their hands and eyesight in order to give birth to these breathtaking works, the very least they hoped for was that the pictures would someday hang on a wall and that someone would LOOK -- REALLY LOOK -- AT THEM.

And maybe even get all excited, and lean in, and point out a precious detail, and share it with their mother, on the day before Mother's Day ... or any other day.

Imagine me getting all bent out of shape if a total stranger had the temerity to openly admire my children ... my masterpieces. Not going to happen.

To quote one of my four great works, namely my astute daughter, Audrey: "If they didn't want us to look at them up close, they should have put them behind a barrier."

True. But I'm glad they didn't. Because if they had, I would have missed the moment -- however fleeting! -- when I connected with the face of a dumb animal painted a century ago by a spectacularly gifted and passionately creative human being.

And although I'm sure the museum employee profiled me as a potentially dangerous Rude Rudy, a would-be art terrorist, someone from whom the paintings needed to be defended, I am glad to report that I continued leaning in, and I even pointed a few more times.

Did not the legendary Diana Vreeland maintain that elegance is refusal?  She did.  And so, elegant or not, I refused to stop admiring, noticing, experiencing, emoting, considering, searching, gleaning, wondering, gasping, and appreciating.

In the end, despite opposition both active and passive, you'll be gratified to learn that we got our money's worth. And not just somehow, but triumphantly.

Then we partook of a lovely late lunch at my favorite restaurant, where we laughed and talked and whiled away the afternoon.

In many ways it was priceless.