mary e. pearson

I mentioned yesterday that we saw some "interesting" art while we were at Versailles.  Let me say first, I have an art background, both fine and commercial, and I do have an appreciation for unusual work. One of my only criteria is that one piece of art shouldn't ruin the enjoyment of another piece of art.

Years ago we had quite a controversial art piece placed right here in Carlsbad.  An artist was commissioned to create some art for placement overlooking our beach.  It was a commission gone awry that took years to undo.  Unfortunately, the artist created a series of tall bars that looked rather like a prison and they extended for quite some distance.  There was nothing wrong with the art itself, and many people did admire it--but the placement of the art was disastrous.  It was the prime sunset watching place in Carlsbad, and now everyone was forced to watch the once beautiful sunsets--art in their own right--through a series of tall bars.  It didn't go over well to put it mildly, and was eventually removed.

So now, fast forward to my vacation.  I have brought my kids half way around the world to see Versailles.  The day before we went I heard that there were French protesters at Versailles who were not happy about an art show at the palace.  I didn't think a lot about it until we arrived:


Yes, that is a giant pink balloon dog in the middle of the Grand Apartments.  I actually could have found it interesting and amusing, but it overwhelmed and dominated the whole room.  And lets face it, most of us can't hop on over to Versailles every day, and THAT is what I went to see.  You could not take a picture of anything in this room without the pink pup taking over.  Oh well, there were other rooms, paintings and sculptures to see at Versailles so we moved on . . . 

Only to find that this "art show" continued on. Yes, it seems we flew thousands of miles to see . . .



Michael Jackson and his chimp, Bubbles.  Yes.  Really.  I didn't photoshop him in. Somewhere behind him is a sculpture of Louis XV, but that piece of artwork we couldn't see.  It was completely obliterated by the golden MJ. Okay, I am trying not to pull my hair out.  Really.  And the parallels of the kings and excess are not lost on me.  But I didn't really need those parallels.  And neither did my kids.  I wanted them to see Versailles!  Again, this scupture completey dominated this historic room and its art.

Onward.  It couldn't get worse could it?



What a stupid question.  Unless you are a big fan of giant plastic lobsters. 

And so it went for the rest of our tour of Versailles.  The sad thing is, I probably would have enjoyed or at least found this art show amusing, if only it hadn't interfered with the art I came to see.

Any opinions?  I know art has many purposes, including stirring up emotions and controversy, but should it ever be at the expense of other art?  I don't know.  Perhaps if my time at Versailles hadn't been so limited and precious I might have had a different opinion, but as it was, I left disappointed.  In truth, I have seen the art and rooms at Versailles before, but I had wanted my kids to see it too.  Instead they saw giant balloon animals and Bubbles.

First the happy thing.

It's gone! I FedExed my revised manuscript to my editor yesterday! What a relief. The Adoration of Jenna Fox is out of my hands and will be in hers tomorrow. Yay! I've been burning the midnight oil to get it done by the 31st and it feels good to say: Misson Accomplished : )

And now for the AMAZING thing . . .

Actually, amazing isn't even the right word. Unbelievable might be better. In fact, most of you will swear that I am pulling an April Fool's joke. I am not. This is TRUE as God is my witness.

Exactly one month ago I posted about that traumatic season that is upon us: Bathing Suit shopping season. Truth is, I did go out shopping and it was just as bad as I thought it might be. I came home, disgusted, with nothing.

So, last week my husband was walking out the door for an appointment and he showed me a bathing suit in a catalog that had come in the mail. "Like it?" he asked. Me: Nod and rolled eyes. "They always look great in the catalogs."

So then he calls me around noon and is in the bathing suit department of this store and he asks me what size I wear. You can imagine the hysterical laughter. Not just mine, but the sales lady who was helping him. ("Sir, you are trying to buy a suit for your wife? Even when women come in and try them on, they can't find one they like.") More laughter. But he was determined so I guessed at a size. I really didn't have a clue since it always varies from suit to suit.

He brought it home. I tried it on. And it fits perfectly! AND I love it! It is the best suit I have had in a long time. Yes, I know, this destroys my chances at winning the lottery. But now my husband has a new job every spring, and it is so worth it.

So I guess my amazing thing is also a happy thing too.

Right now there's only TWO degrees difference between San Diego (33) where I live, and Seattle (35) where I am headed on Friday, and Seattle is the warmer city!

Unreal. Maybe I will be able to pack my T-shirts after all.

Wow. What kind of sandal do you suppose it was?

Last night on 60 Minutes, in Andy Rooney's commentary, he wondered why we had never had a woman president before. He noted how many other countries have had and do have women presidents, how women live longer than men, and how women seem to abide the law way better than men (93% of prisoners are male), more women go to and graduate from college than men, plus a few other points that seem to indicate that we are missing the boat in the president gender department.

Why indeed, Andy? I wonder too.

I was reading an article in Time Magazine (May 29, 2006) about a girl and her boyfriend who were barred from the prom because he was too old. She was 18 but he was 21. The school didn't allow guests older than 20. This surprised me. When I went to my senior prom I was 17 and my date was 20 but there were no age limits and older dates were allowed. The article went on to say that sociologists believe that the "hyper-protective parenting characteristics of baby boomers" are at least partially responsible for these stricter rules.

Hm. I really took note of the phrase hyper-protective parenting characteristics. Is this going to be a new catch phrase for us baby boomers? Is it true? Do we not give our children as long a leash as we had as teens? Why?
Is the world really a more dangerous place and we have to protect our children so much more? Yes, it might be. But maybe not too. When I was a kid there were air raid drills once a week in school, smallpox, polio, virtually no such thing as gun control, and bomb shelter signs were posted everywhere. Yep, our mall was a designated place to escape “the” bomb. If all of that is not enough to make a parent paranoid, I don’t know what is. But my parents weren’t. They were good parents, but they didn’t stress about where I was every minute of the day and there was no such thing as grounding or curfews or having to know all my friends. Hey, us neighborhood kids practically felt like free agents.

So what has changed? I am not entirely convinced the world is a nastier place. Maybe it is. Maybe not. Maybe our parents were just ignorant? Or maybe we know too much? Do we have information overload? Just like we know that caffeine, wine, sex, and salmon are good for us one day (and bad the next) are we paranoid because we have so much media exposure about every possible horrible thing that could happen to our kids–and we can find out on at least seventy-four different channels?

I don’t know the answers–just asking the questions–because yes, I do agree that we baby-boomer are hyper parents.

Guilty as charged.