There’s not much going on in New York
This is the conclusion that Elizabeth and I recently reached, as we lay abed of a Saturday morning and mused about how to enjoy our hard-won freedom.
“Perhaps we could take a cooking class,” one of us ventured.
“Maybe we could go to one of the museums,” another of us proposed. This was instantly shot down in what was, I must state with some indignation, a most abrupt and non-collegial manner.
“Let’s take an art class,” said another of us, in a somewhat huffy tone given how his previous suggestion had been eviscerated before even being given the chance to spread its wings and soar toward the sun.
An art class, we agreed, was a Good Idea, and so we set forth to the Interwebs to find ourselves a class to take.
Nobody, it seems, is very interested in teaching art on Saturdays anymore. We scoured websites high and low in search of individuals or institutions who would be willing to impart on us a hint of culture. Initially, I began by searching for someone who would teach us to execute oil painting on canvas, preferably in a ne0-Renaissance manner. I soon scaled this back to just “oil painting”, then “painting”. Then we began searching for “art”, and “culture”, and finally in a desperate flurry of keystrokes I found myself looking at the Google results for “makin’ stuff”.
It is a bleak and barren landscape out there for the weekend art class warrior. The one course we did find that looked interesting was a class on digital photography. This perked us up for a moment. Then we realized that: a) the course extended through Saturday and Sunday, and we had already made commitments for Sunday; and b) we would need to get showered, get dressed, purchase a digital camera, learn to use it, and get to the class within the next 55 minutes if we were to make this work.
I was okay with most of those, but just didn’t think I’d be able to get dressed in time.
Instead we made crepes and watched really bad TV.
