Polygon, the Dancing Bear

Occasional notes on politics, history, technology, architecture,
and the life of a county clerk

2002:
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2003:
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2004:
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2005:
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2006:
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2007:
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2008:
January / February / March
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Current entries

Monday, July 14, 2008, 3:52 pm

From the Clerk-Register. Today's message for my staff.

Where I grew up, there was a busy boulevard through the center of town, with a broad median strip. One year, there was a very serious project to display large works of sculpture in this median.

They set up a committee and a jury of experts and obtained funding. Pretty soon, a series of abstract artworks were installed at intervals along the boulevard, each one with a sign announcing its title. There would be, say, a whole bunch of rusty metal shards bolted together, with a title like "Aurora of Happiness." Or a pile of huge glass balls labeled "Aggressive Ennui." Nobody but the artist understood what that was about, but the whole town was very pleased with itself over this wonderful display of Art.

A couple weeks later, another sculpture came along, which got a lot more attention than all the others put together. It was installed in the median in the dead of night by persons unknown, and consisted of what appeared to be a well-made set of wooden porch steps, nicely stained and varnished, with the title "Mother and Child."

You can imagine the cries of outrage at how some trickster or amateur had invaded the haughty circles of Art. Yes, right there on the highway median. Others thought it was a hilarious parody on the whole concept of abstract sculpture. I don't think they ever found out who was responsible.

The moral of the story is that we shouldn't pay too much attention to what is, or is not, "Art". Professors and art critics claim to have a monopoly on the definition, while others dispute it, and still others push the envelope, seeking official recognition for all kinds of odd objects and antics. If you dare to disagree with any of these folks, without holding an advanced arts degree, you'll be dismissed as ignorant and immoral.

With half a million people poised to descend on our community this week in search of Art, we're likely to hear a lot of these arguments going on.

My advice is, when somebody announces they know what Art is, or what it is not, just smile politely and back away.

Instead, let us appreciate the Art Fairs not for what they claim to represent, but what they are: an amazing display of human ingenuity and effort.

As in past years, Clerk-Register staff are invited to take a two-hour lunch break on one of the Art Fair days. You can arrange this with your supervisor.

Let's have a great week, and enjoy the weather.

....Posted by Lawrence Kestenbaum —

Thursday, July 10, 2008, 2:39 pm

From the Clerk-Register. Yesterday's email message to my staff:

Late one night last week, when a big storm blew down branches and trees, the power went out at our house. From what we could see, the whole neighborhood was dark.

Some hours passed, while storms came and went. I lay awake in bed, listening to the rumble of thunder and the insistent drumming of heavy rain on the roof.

I thought, there's no way we'll have power back before morning. After all, who's going to climb up a utility pole at 1:00 am, in the middle of a lightning storm, to reconnect high voltage electric lines?

Just then, the power came back on.

Somebody DID climb up that pole, wherever it was.

It sounds terrifying, but the utility worker probably thought of it as just another day on the job. We don't think of those folks very often, but they make our modern lives possible.

We [in the Clerk/Register's office] may not be splicing electric cables in the rain after midnight, but we also do important work. People rely on us — whether they think about it or not.

Remember to take pride in everything you do.

....Posted by Lawrence Kestenbaum —

2002:
May / June / July
August / September / October
November / December

2003:
January / February / March
April / May / June / July
August / September / October
November / December