Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Portrait of the artist as a defeated man.

Asspirations of an Intern was a success! I started the day having a great time, shopping for a suitably irritating artist-type costume at Value Village. Best 25 bucks I ever spent. I went with a pink shirt, a green sweater-vest and a green ascot, which was actually some scarf-like thing I found in the bathroom section.

I managed to get to the Parkdale Gallery by about 1:00, and the Carleton by 1:30. After two quarts and two smoked meat sandwiches, we headed back to the station so we could get the new canvas, and so I could record some movie reviews before the event began. Then on to pick up the Spectrum Sound and Vision guys who were going to film the whole thing.

We went back to the Carleton first, for two more smoked meat sandwiches and another quart. Sam, the owner, sent me out a second quart, but I couldn't possibly cram that one in before I went to do my show. To some degree, I needed my wits about me.

I snuck in the back, having planted my two gorgeous "assistants" in the audience, and waited. Doc and Woody began the show, and announced me right away. I began to say a few words, but after a few unceremonious interruptions courtesy of Woody, I relinquished the stage and began the performance.

A screen was drawn across the stage, and lights were set up behind the curtain so that the crowd could see the silhouette as I disrobed, hiked up my lacy black underwear, and bent over a table. My assistants grabbed the equipment, and Chelsea sprayed paint onto my backside as Jessica spanked me with the canvas. Jason, caught up in the spirit of the moment, grabbed the canvas from Jessica at one point and began to take out all his frustrations on my behind. I could hear his thoughts "this is for the time you hit on me in the first class section of the VIA rail train while dressed as a hooker!" "this is for the time you made me photograph you nude during the polar bear dip!"

The downside was that due to the vehemence with which Jason was swinging for the fences, the paint actually splattered above my head, over my body, and onto the wall where the existing butt works were still hanging. Very few drops of pink made it onto those canvasses, but a few of the bidders got a tiny bit extra with their purchases later on.

The final masterpiece was completed quickly, and the auction began. Although the bidding started at 5 bucks, which is what I assumed the guys would do, it quickly reached more than 100 dollars for each painting. The last one was "Sanjuro Smear", the prize of the collection and the one that was best received of all, and it fetched a princely sum of 200 bucks. All in all, we raised $1,100.00 for the Doc and Woody fund for the operating rooms at CHEO.

We were pleased that our listeners had dug so deep for the kids, and went to the Carleton to celebrate. I had two smoked meat sandwiches. The waitress brought out the quart I had begun earlier. They had kept it in the fridge since I left for the show. Then Sam sent over a pitcher, another quart and a pile of wings. Then a few listeners sent over quarts and jugs. The Spectrum guys had a few, as did Woody, but they all left fairly quickly, and I was left at the table with James from the Parkdale, a few of his friends, and a rapidly-souring promo guy who just wanted to go home to play World of Warcraft or some such thing.

I left a table covered in beer we couldn't possibly drink, and headed home. Thanks to some wing-induced heartburn, I remained awake until 11:00, then up at 3 for work.

When I got to work, Doc was already sick of my artistic posturings from the previous week, and his threshold for my pretentious affectations was diminished to the point where it almost didn't exist at all any more. It was less than two hours into the show when he finally decided to do something about it.

I was locked in a room just outside the studio, with a ghettoblaster and the new Rush song. The ghettoblaster was cranked up to eleven, and the song was played on repeat. I guess Doc learned a thing or two from the Manuel Noriega catastrophe. Although as I recall, the army played Twisted Sister to force him out of his house.

In this case, I believed I could withstand a couple of hours. I mean, the show was over at 9, anyone can take something unpleasant for two hours. But I hadn't counted on the ability of Geddy Lee to get under my skin. That voice pierces my brain. And, once it's inside my brain, it wreaks havoc on my synapses to the point where I quickly lose the ability to speak, and I am unable to function in a normal way for some time. In the words of Hunter S Thompson, the mind recoils in horror, unable to communicate with the spinal column. He was talking about ether. A drug almost as dangerous as Rush.

I caved. My resistance was broken down, my pride deflated and crushed, and my ears were dripping a small amount of blood. I won't go into great detail about the other physical infirmities with which I became suddenly afflicted, but I can certainly say I prefer having my ass covered in paint to any of them.

So it's over. In order to stop the assault on my senses and my sensibilities, I was forced to concede defeat. I will no longer put on airs and carry myself as though I have something to offer the art world. I will no longer speak in a condescending way about my troglodyte co-workers, and their lack of refinement when it comes to artistic achievement. And I will go back to being a subservient, obedient intern who fetches coffee, empties the recycling bin, and occasionally pumaces Doc's feet. For the time being.

4 comments:

  1. hats off to ya eric
    ((grin))

    you have balls!!lmao
    BUTT seriously thou
    thankyou for your interest for the cheo kids and your Entertainement!!!

    cheers to you!!!
    you desirve a hug,,,common now where;s your blogger's,,,
    ((group hug))..
    ((here;s a beer & cigar for you eric))

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  2. Thank you! Although I don't expect Doc or Woody to hug me any time soon, I managed to get a hug or two from my assistants on monday, and that made most of this worthwhile!

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  3. Well, for the purposes of art, I did that day!

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