I wanted to catch the Sonic Lunch concert and this week it was Misty Lyn & The Big Beautiful.
So I walked downtown and stopped to get lunch on the way (I should have gotten lunch there from the day's lunch sponsor). I went by Michigan Stadium on the way:
I had to smile when I watched someone taking a group picture by the northwest entrance of a bunch of people all in blue Michigan shirts.
The concert was well attended and the band was pretty good. They're locals, it seems:
Of course, I'm a sucker for female musicians--especially singers. Always have been. If not for my healthy dose of self respect, I could have totally been a groupie for some woman-fronted band. And now it is too late for me to get to that level of stupid. Although I did get the autograph of one singer for a band on one of their CDs several years ago at Conor O'Neil's bar. Not wanting to go down that path, I figured I'd snag a CD from Amazon rather than buy one on the spot from them. Pity, they aren't on Amazon.
Anyway, I'm sorry I missed one of the earlier performers who I've seen a number of times in local bars, but I didn't realize the concerts had started. I really must get to more of these. And the weather was good. There is only one flaw in the whole arrangement:
What a sad sign. That's where I sat while I ate my lunch. I moved for a better view after I ate.
I then headed to campus:
That's State Street heading toward South University. Some years ago, in an earlier home front post, I noted my attempt to take Mister to the University of Michigan Museum of Art but was thwarted by having only the temporary exhibit open. Which sucked. Understandably, they didn't want to risk actual art on the temporary grounds and put the modern crud in it.
The new museum has been open for a while. A week ago, I noticed the new sculpture when I was on campus heading for a local bar:
I'm not saying I like it. I'm simply saying I noticed it.
I spent a little over an hour in the museum. I'm biased toward paintings. Sculptures and old gravy bowls can hold my attention if illustrating history but not as "art." The paintings from competing schools amuse me as if there was a civil war amongst painters. They are beautiful in different ways.
What was a little sad was the one part in the European Art (1650-1830) that had a number of pieces of art in drawers under an under-glass exhibit. How sad! I looked at all of them and my example of TOUCHING SOMETHING IN THE MUSEUM! inspired another gallery patron to view those hidden drawings and paintings.
The skill of those artists--even those stuck in a drawer awaiting promotion to a wall--is more evident when you get to the modern and contemporary "art" exhibits. Because whatever medium they use, they suck. Paint, sculpture, whatever. They are, as the expression goes, the freaking flag of Japan! You could not build drawers big enough to hide some of those monstrosities.
What I really enjoyed in the modern and contemporary art section was the "art" that consisted of two 40 watt incandescent bulbs hanging bare on the wall. Lots of closets around the world have "art" in them, apparently. What I enjoyed was that the artist surely didn't consider that incandescent bulbs would become one of the horsemen of the global warming Apocalypse consigned to history by the quest for a low-carbon footprint. Is it still art when the bulbs have to be replaced with an LED or CFL bulbs? Or does it become performance art, or something?
But if they ever put that art's modern comrades in drawers, the bulb art will at least have a function.
Anyway, I go through that section pretty fast and I don't even pretend to ponder it. I missed the museum store completely even though I know I must have walked by it, but I do have several prints that I need to frame and hang before I contemplate another purchasing trip. And it saves an activity for another time to look at the parts of the exhibit I like.
So I wander out on campus and pick a spot under a tree to read the book I brought with me. But first a small squirrel had to satisfy itself that I, in fact, was not a food-giver:
It was not shy. I felt I really shouldn't sit if it would be willing to climb up on me in search of french fries or Oreos. I gently told it that I was without any food, but it had to make one last careful check before running off:
I settled in for some reading, kicked off my shoes and socks, and enjoyed the shade. I haven't done this in decades, although on vacation I like to park myself and read. I probably should have gone to the Diag for better people watching. Ok, by "people" I mean "women." Yeah, yeah. I'm a pig.
After a while, I headed downtown where I bought a cheap but bright "maize" Michigan shirt for Mister. Sadly, I didn't see anything for Lamb while there. So after buying a souvenir, I was officially being a tourist in my own town.
I wrapped up with a couple beers at Conor O'Neil's downtown. They have free wifi so I could haul out my iPod Touch and check email and otherwise surf the web while I drank beer outside:
I'd snap pictures of women walking by, but since I'm not a big-name blogger, I suspect I'd be arrested or at least hounded out of town with that stunt.
Then I walked home, buying donuts on the way at a local grocery store, and found on my doorstep my recent shipment of meat and fish from Omaha Steaks. Bonus! Meat in the mail. Is this a great country, or what?
Life is good.
