Lost 6-0;6-3. Had fun.
A sketch from an old sketchbook found laying around the house. This must have been done sometime in the 80’s. Not sure who it’s supposed to be. Probably just practicing by drawing from photographs. The standard art school reasoning is that drawing from photographs just isn’t good. You’ve got to have live models. Naked preferably. I say it’s a hell of a lot better than not drawing at all.
I’m sure every former art student remembers that first life drawing class with the nude model. In my case, as usual, I was out of the loop as to what was going on. Let’s see, that would have been 1968. Can’t imagine me being out of the loop. More like I was into what the loop was made from. Anyway, I walk into the class and there’s the model sitting on a stool next to the platform in a bathrobe. Until that point it had been students in leotards. That’s what I was expecting. I found myself a donkey (that’s actually what they call those wierd drawing benches) and got out my pad of newsprint and my conte crayon start rolling my shoulders around to loosen up and make the girls in the class think I was serious. The model, climbed on to the platform and dropped the bathrobe. I let out an audible gasp. Figure drawing studio models come in all shapes and sizes, this woman came in the shape and size of a young goddess. Her name was Naomi and she was an art student at the U. She drove a red jeep. Damn, I wonder if I can find those drawings. Maybe I didn’t do any. I was probably having a hard time balancing the drawing board.

Tennis tonight. USTA match. The joys of senior tennis, nobody can remember the dam score, and I get to get my ass kicked by guys 20 years older than me. Haven’t played for a week either, so I’ll be really rusty. I’ll report back later on my results. But it’s usually the same. So far I haven’t found a partner who wants to come to the net, so we get stuck in the I formation, one up one back, the other guys get the net and it’s all over. I’m a good net player but I’ll go entire matches without getting set up because my partner lays back and is content to play cross court baseline. I’m no great double player but I do get the fact that aggressiveness is the key. Let’s win or lose at the net. The ball should not touch the ground. Dang it!

I’m getting a little worried about my coloration, maybe I should have my liver enzymes checked. Whaddya think?

Eavesdrop:
Actually overheard convesations

“It was a once in a lifetime thing that happens every once in a while.”

Good Old-Fashioned Norwegian Lutheran Funeral

Ole died so Lena called the newspaper to put the obituary in.
Newspaper guy, “OK Lena, how would you like the obituary to read?”
Lena: “Ole died.”
Newspaper guy, “Ole died? That’s it? You’ve been married for 35 years and that’s all you have to say about him? Wouldn’t you like a little more information published?”
Lena: “Nope, Ole died”
Newspaper guy, “Lena, if cost is a consideration, you should know that the first five words are free.”
Momentary silence.
Lena: “Ole died. Boat for sale.”

Yesterday was Jo’s funeral. Redeemer Lutheran in Fridley was packed. A niece that was very close to her did a reading. She started to choke up early, and that’s all I needed. I was bawling like a baby. I’m a sentimental old fart. The pastor who gave the sermon was a young intern who had spent the last seven months visiting Jo her as health deteriorated. It was pretty obvious that she had captured him in her web of love and charm. He was having trouble keeping it together. He did tell an Ole and Lena Joke though. She was known as the Queen of the Ole and Lena jokes. My nephew Scott read the eulogy written by his wife Jill (Jo’s daughter) who knew she couldn’t get through it herself. Jill’s a writer by profession and the touch of her creative hand was evident through the service. It was a beautiful tribute, expressing sadness, loss, remembrance, humor and the joy of faith.
The day had an extra dose of pathos to it. An eleven year old girl blessed us with a solo performance of Amazing Grace. This kid will be famous some day. She is a fearless performer, a ham’s ham, always ready to do her latest bit at family gatherings. What I didn’t know about her was that she has a genuine country twang. In other words, she can sing two notes at once! I thought only Tibetan monks could do that. Some of you may not care for that twangy music, but to me it’s beautiful when done right. (Soundtrack of Brother Where Art Though) And she did it right.
Now for the pathos. Her grandfather had died the night before. Her parents didn’t tell her until after the performance for fear she couldn’t do it. It was a touching scene after the service when her dad had to break the news to her. Jill and little Sarah crying in each other’s arms.
God bless Jo Palmquist and all the Palmquist family.

Before I sat down to write, I went out to the fridge¹ to grab a Coke. Sat down cracked it open and….It was frozen!

1. Minnesotan for refrigerator. We called ’em ice boxes until 1960.