Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Was ist los mein Kind?

Just returned from a good 5K run around Volkspark Friedrichshein on a really lovely evening. It's really cool how people just go to the park and fly frisbee or grill or run or rollerblade on these nice nights. What a chill environment. Beer drinking in public! Guitar playing, etc. Great.
I have been having a succession of meetings regarding the purchase of a property on Brunnenstrasse in the Mitte neighborhood. It's a good street for art things, lots of small galleries and artists stationed nearby. Also, a good address with regards to rental opportunities. The price is good and the place is all cement and wood. A balcony will be installed next month, as well as a kitchen and some sundry repairs. 2 bathrooms, really cool. If all goes well, the various transactions will take place in August while the transfer of property will be as of September 1st. I am planning on flying back for the transfer and to make payment at that time. I am excited as I think it is a very good place and the dealing has been straight-forward and efficient, unlike the last situation.
I have met some great people here and look forward to seeing them again when I return. I have a little life in Berlin!
Now I need a guitar!
The show at Latin Collector opens right away when I return to NYC. That's also very exciting. Announcements go out soon. There will also be a DVD catalog of the show, which is a new innovation that I thought of! I'm very proud of the idea and the staff at LC have done a good job keeping everything going and together. It's a good step forward for me, to be included in an uptown show and I look forward to seeing my NYC friends there!
Right after that, it's off to Taylors Falls for a few weeks of total rest at my cabin. Boat rides, swimming, barbecue. I get to visit my new/old truck! Kick it! Nate from Korea will be there and I also have a lot of family business-oriented work to do, as well. So, not too much chilling. Maybe no gigs this time with the band, which is good. It's been a busy year fro Frances Gumm and just chilling and jamming in private sounds pretty appealing.
Okay, the bath is ready. Time to jump in and wash last night's excesses out of my body.
Yeow! K-K-k-k-k-k-k-k-KICK it! Yay! WHAT?
Yay! YES! Cool? NO? Yes? YES? YES! YES! YAY!
YAY!

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Random Thoughts on Narcissism in the World of Politics

By Leo Kuelbs

Over the past years, I have often wondered why people like Dick Cheney and George Bush need to have so much money and so much power. How is it that they can comfortably preside over wars which shape civilization towards some idea they have about what is right? Their idea. Lots of people can get killed. People who also have actual lives, but somehow, these lives are lesser than those of the politician’s family and those of his college buddies.

Having spent time around the ultra-wealthy, I had noticed that after years of financially-based exclusivity—I mean, some people are just too rich to be around everyone else—they can lose their footing in “standard reality.” In situations where everyone around a person caters to their needs and desires and defers on everything—not based upon character necessarily—and “yes” is the main word on that exclusive world’s lips, you have the perfect incubator for narcissism.

I’ve known this for a while. I once had a rich woman tell me she thought she was an Egyptian Goddess at times. And that she was chosen by God to do whatever she wanted to, never mind the consequences. All these thoughts came flooding back to me and clicked into place when I heard an interview with Jeff Sharlet on his new book “The Family.”
In short, “The Family” is a Christian Political organization (their words) that, in very simplified terms, feels they are destined to lead, given personal mandates by God. Lots of people in the news are members, including two conservative Senators recently admitting marital infidelities.
But who cares about small stuff like that when you are chosen by God to lead? I mean, if it is your destiny to shape the world towards what you feel is right—because you are, after all, doing God’s work, what’s right for you is right for the world! Then who cares about little stuff like that.
Now let’s get 1000 people who think like this working together, supporting each other’s narcissistic fantasies. We are now talking about a large part of the Republican Party, as well as many other politicians of differing stripes world-wide.
My fear is that we are all governed by a group of self-sustaining, hyper rich, narcissists who could give a fuck about the lives of those not in their camp.
To me, this answers my questions regarding the motives behind the accumulations of wealth and power for a few at the expense of everyone else. The answer? They should have it because they can and they deserve it because it is God’s will. Amorality, immorality, can easily be justified if you are a narcissist. And who goes into politics? Oftentimes, it is the rich who enter the fray. The poor have to work at Burger King, they don’t have time to raise money for political campaigns. Nor do they have the connections.
I don’t know what to feel about this, other than terrified and fairly certain. It illuminates many conspiracy theories and reveals that there’s no conspiracy, it’s mental illness and delusional thinking that guides many of the world’s governments’ decision making.

Berlin Update

Well, after a lot of looking and the collapse of the last deal, it seems as though I have found a place in Berlin.
It is in Mitte, which is the best neighborhood for art, in the former East Berlin. It's a nice big loft set back a bit from the street, so it should be quiet. They will be building near it for a while, so until that is finished, it could be noisy sometimes, but the plans for the work nearby and very nice and will ultimately increase the property value.
So, that's good. If all goes well, I will close this coming week.
Also, I hope to have a couple days to drop things off there. The goal is to have workable place when I return this Autumn.

In NYC, I have a show opening on the 23rd of July at Latin Collector Gallery on 57th St. It's been difficult and frustrating, at times, to co-curate a show in NYC from Berlin, but I think it's on track and look forward to some hard work when I return on the 19th. Yikes! That's pretty scary. There is more info at my website: leokuelbscollection.com.

The social life has been interesting and I have met a lot of nice people out here. I get a little worried when they tell me about the seething racism that still bubbles beneath the surface of Berlin. That's a real turn-off.
Otherwise, the people are great and I have made some friends here that I think I will know for a long time.

Okay, time to make lunch. I've been going out a lot and I need to take care of myself in the coming days. There's so much happening, as mentioned above, plus my family business rolls forth and I have much to do in that realm, as well.

I wish Helmut were around to visit the land of his heritage. I weirdly keep thinking of him all the time.

Back to life without internet.
Tchuss!

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Update

Gruss von Berlin

Well, it’s Sunday, the 5th of July and all is calm in Berlin. I celebrated the 4th with some American friends at a burger place near Mauerpark. The Bird is owned by some Brooklynites who pride themselves on the kind of fun/rude service model, which is okay. The burger was great, but so many Americans speaking English was a little disconcerting.

Lots of fun afterwards at a couple other places with a variety of nice friends. Some very nice Austrians, art talk, friendly discussions of everything.

I have made a little progress on the property front, but nothing concrete. The way business is done here is very frustrating. There seems to be a level of emotional connection to property transactions that I haven’t witnessed before. Definitely some cultural differences that I have yet to sort out. If I don’t make any concrete progress by the end of my scheduled October trip here, I think I will give up on finding something.

The other deal fell apart 5 days before the closing when the seller, basically, pulled out of the arrangement. No real reason was ever given to me, but I suspect he got a higher offer. That would make the most sense. But the seller was pretty abrupt and rude and, on the whole, I am happy to not have anything to do with someone who does business like that.

So, it’s sunny and I may go out again tonight. There a barbecue I’ve been invited to, as well as the possibility of having a drink with a friend of a friend. But it may be good to stick here and have dinner alone and prep for more action tomorrow. I think I can crank out another story if I stay focused and stay in. Working out has been nice, doing push-ups and ab stuff, then short runs, rebuilding the strength in my leg. Staying in, working out, getting lots of sleep sounds pretty enjoyable. Need to watch the diet out here to. Burgers and beer. Danger!

Otherwise, family news has been hard to come by. Lots of unanswered calls. No one is around. Maybe I will call my sister. That’s a good idea.

Okay, better get back to the day to day.
Tchuss!

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Short Story! Celebrate the 4th!

National Holiday
By Leo Kelbs

First Draft
July 3rd, 2009

Even though it was mid-Spring, when Jerry pulled the drape aside, he was greeted by the site of an ice storm. “Oh well,” he thought, “At least today is a holiday and I don’t have to go to the bakery.” Instead, he returned to bed for another hour or so and finally, once his back was sore from sleeping so much, he got up and thought about his day.

It was the national holiday and he had tickets for the annual celebration at the indoor stadium downtown. There were three comedians and several bands, and some stirring political speeches, he supposed, too, but not many. Over the last several years, pride in his country had turned into something more like a comfortable malaise. It was true, that, in general, the population cared about the government and where they lived, etc. But it had more to do with their homes, their families, food. The bigger political stuff, they cared about, but in a more abstract way, so tonight’s holiday event had more to do with entertainment and less to do with anything really serious.

Jerry fingered his tickets. They were nice ones, his brothers, who still worked at the family bakery, had good connections and usually at least one of their wives would want to stay home with the kids and watch the event on television. As it was, Jerry was offered two tickets and was bringing a date. He and Barbara had met at a cooking exhibition two months before and, though they liked each other, sometimes Jerry felt that they kept going because there really wasn’t anyone else for either of them. She was pretty and an enthusiastic lover, so at least he had that going. She liked sweets, so he would always bring her a cupcake or some other special treat from his shop, which was small, but famous, so she was happy enough about that. But today, the bad weather would keep him from the bakery, so when they met up, he would be empty-handed. “I wish I could bring her one of the little cakes with the national colors on it!” He said to himself. But it would be all he could do to get to the stadium on time, let alone across town to his shop. Instead, he listened to another advertisement for the evening’s event.
The recently elected President tried to sound warm and fun with his scratchy, crackly voice as he read the list of bands and then repeated his famous post-campaign slogan, a chant, three times, “I won! I won! I won!” Jerry listlessly did the associated fist pump and thought about the bands. None of which he was particularly interested in anymore.
They were always the oldest, most established bands. Everyone knew every word to every song and, in this way, the bands’ old songs had supplanted the national anthem, which no one ever really knew the words too, anyway. The whole evening would, in essence, bring all who attended together. At least for a while.

When Jerry left his apartment, the storm had abated, but traffic was amassing. One problem in exchange for another. The sidewalks were still icy and what would have been about a 40-minute walk was looking rather impossible. The show was to begin at 7 p.m. and it was already 6.10.

Horns were honking and every taxi was filled with passengers trying to get to the event. A woman in a fur jacket was cursing her husband, who was helping raise her from the sidewalk onto which she had slipped. Jerry wondered about her pointy, high-heeled shoes. But, he supposed, no one had planned for such awful weather, so she could be forgiven. Besides, they looked like official types and the fact that they didn’t have a ride to the celebration seemed an unplanned for pity. Jerry had given up his car recently to help pay or his new business. Besides, it would make little difference if he had it anyway, as traffic was blocked in the intersections. Accidents were being cleared every few blocks and horns honked as desperation at the prospects of being late for the event began to mount.

There were still remnants of new president’s celebratory “I won!” posters pasted to the sides of buildings and Jerry smiled as he walked past. The president was so little, almost cute in his grotesque smallness. His efforts to look normal and fun fit in with the rumors of his slightly wacky and capricious nature. No one knew much about him and no one had expected him to win. An odd insider who had been working for years in the darker corners. If anyone would have actually cared much who ran their country, they would likely have looked a little deeper into how this character had won the election. But, as he had pointed out, he had won. No one cared how. And this would be his first big speech. It as supposed to be 10 minutes long, between the second and third bands.

It was already seven when Jerry reached the far side of the parking lot. Cars waited in a long row to get in, some even pulled out. If he didn’t have Barbara waiting he would have turned around, too. His brothers and his father would be attending as well and that gave him pause. He hadn’t seen or talked with his father since he left the family business to start his own a year ago and wasn’t sure of the old man’s feelings. After months of silence, the realities of running his own business toke the fore and he forgot about his father as a living thing. Only as an abstract character from his relatively happy past.

Still, it would be nice to see his family again; he had been away from them for so long. His brother who offered the tickets certainly hadn’t given a hint of any rifts, so Jerry hoped for the best. Likely, everything was fine.

The lobby area was massive and well-appointed. Still new, it unveiled for a National Holiday just a few years ago. What a party that was! Free food and liquor!
Jerry went to the designated spot and found Barbara talking to another fellow. “Oh Jerry! You’re so late, I was getting worried about you!”
“It’s the ice, what can I say. Traffic is ridiculous. The sidewalks are too. I saw a government lady fall down out there. Crazy weather we’re having. I wanted to brinbg a sweet, but I wasn’t able to get to the shop! I’m sorry about that.”
Then, “Hi, I’m Randy. I’m the new CFO for your family’s business. I’ve heard a lot about you!”
“Oh, I’m fine. I hope you didn’t hear anything too terrible.”
“Oh no.” Then the new CFO took his leave with a little kiss to Barbara and a firm handshake for Jerry.

People milled about as Jerry and Barbara made their way upstairs and into the slightly more upscale section of the balcony. The place was still only half full, the event would be delayed, Jerry realized. Or else the ice might keep people away. Whenever the weather gave an excuse, people seemed to stay home in droves.

“It’s this row, in the middle,” Jerry said, taking Barbara’s hand to help her along. She pulled it away.
“I can do it, Jerry,” she said, “You don’t have to help me.”
“Excuse me,” Jerry said to a couple of fellows seated along the way to the seats.
“Oh it’s you.” Jerry looked down to see his father. “I thought I might see you here tonight.”
“Oh, hi Dad! It’s good to see you!” Jerry replied happily.
“I wish I could say the same!” his father replied while his oldest brother sat silently next to the old man and stared straight ahead. The energy was not good.
“Is everything okay? I’ve missed you these past months,” Jerry went on.
“Is everything okay?” Father replied, mimicking his stray son. Then he smacked his lips and sighed.
“Well, it’s too bad. I didn’t want to make any trouble with any of you. It was just…Well, it doesn’t look so full; I think we’ll just sit somewhere else.”
Father nodded and looked away. “Come on, Barbara,” he said and again, held out his hand.
“I’m going to sit here, Jerry,” she said. “You go on.” And she took her jacket off and sat next to Jerry’s father.

“That was awful,” Jerry thought to himself, “but I can’t let it stop my life. I’ll find a seat and make the best of it. It’s not like it changes anything.” And he made his way down several rows, to a seat where he would be visible, but not too close to his just now estranged family. He wondered why the others had invited him at all.

It was also possible that someone else would come to claim his new seat, which was quite a good one. Better than those of his family. More people were arriving and finding their seats, the show would begin soon. Jerry decided to have a look around the mezzanine, maybe get a beer or something to calm him down after the unsettling affairs between his family and Barbara. But whatever disappointment sank close to the deadness that he felt in his heart for the whole situation. He couldn’t please anyone, barely himself, so these new developments only deepened and better defined his malaise. After tomorrow, he could go back to his own business and loose himself again in work.

In the lobby, people milled about, looking at souvenirs and waiting for food. There seemed something abuzz near one of the nearby gates, but Jerry was lost in thought about his family and Barbara—a combination of anger and loneliness swirled between his heart and mind.

Just then, the people nearby went to attention and from a doorway leading into the deeper bowels of the stadium, the new President appeared. He has alone, no security detail, and much smaller than he appeared on television. He put his hands into the air. “Greetings citizens!” he said. “All together, ‘I won! I won! I won! I won!..” He went on pumping his two fists into the air with great vehemence, the people joining him reluctantly. They weren’t used to this kind of display of fervor.

“That wasn’t good enough!” the tiny leader shouted. “Not by half!” The crowd wasn’t prepared for this. No one thought they would see the President in person. They were here, after all, for the show, the music.
“Everyone kneel! I am the President. Kneel now and do the oath.” Some near to him sank down first, others followed, Jerry amongst the last. He really didn’t feel like participating in this exercise. Especially not in this moment.
“Now, let’s start!” The President said. “And I want you too do it with feeling! Watch me.” And he began the oath that no one completely knew, except him. He punctuated his words with his fingers and his little gray hair began flopping around and his little pink lips were wet from his aggressive pronunciations. A sense of uncertainty and fear filled the area as the group wondered whether it mattered if they followed the new President’s instructions or not. Plus, since no one actually knew the oath and everyone was mumbling and pointing along with their new unknown leader.

Jerry was the most listless in this exercise and thought about getting up and leaving. Others apparently thought so too, looking at each other nervously for support and guidance. But no one dared.
When the oath was finished, but all were still on their knees, the President looked at them and said, “No. No, that wasn’t good enough! Stay on your knees! And you,” he pointed to a man near him who had tried the hardest. “He will be shot because of this. Right on the field before the show begins!”

By this time, a few official had arrived at the scene, along with a befuddled security detail. “But I tried to do a good job,” the man protested, “I did better than everyone else!”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s for the good of the country!” No one moved, except the President. “He will be killed and if anyone has a problem with that, you can let me know and I will have you killed, as well.” By now the President was coming closer to Jerry who looked around at the people near him. The President’s little smile from the posters had returned.
Still no one was sure if the man would actually be shot. No one made a move for him. “You have been getting sloppy and now we will get this country back on track,” the President told the bewildered crowd who were slowly standing up. “I will straighten you all out. What do you think?” he asked woman next to Jerry. She tried to smile.
“I think…”
With this, a rage rose up in Jerry and he grabbed the little President by the throat, then shoved him to the floor. “How dare you!” the President said; yet still, no one moved, except Jerry, who now picked the little old man up by the feet, swung him over his head and smashed him onto the cement floor. Several times. Until he was obviously beyond dead.
“You can’t do that,” one of the officials said after the fact. “That’s the President!”
“He was going to kill that guy. That guy’s life is clearly worth more than his,” he said, pointing to the President’s bleeding corpse. “Obviously.” Jerry was weirdly calm. Then the crowd began to move, realizing what had happened.
Then Jerry realized that no matter what, he was in terrible trouble. Still, no one knew who he was. If he could get out, pick up some things, maybe he could get away somehow.
“Sir, you should come with us,” a friendly-looking official said to him. “You didn’t do the wrong thing necessarily, but you should come with us and maybe we can get this sorted out. Maybe there’s a place for you somehow…”
The fellow seemed harmless enough, yet other security people were now looming and Jerry made the quick decision to try to get away from all of them, get home and get out of town, if possible.

The crowd was such, as was Jerry’s level of adrenaline; that mixing in wasn’t impossible. Plus, the officials and security seemed less than motivated. When the friendly offical turned to address the issue of the corpse, Jerry fled. The security team watched him go, without taking chase.
In the main mezzanine, where he had met Barbara just 30 minutes before, people who knew what had happened were exiting while the others sat, oblivious, in their seats waiting for the big show to begin. He had a good chance to make it home.

He was close to the doors when he heard his name, “Hey Jerry! Jerry wait!” He turned to see one of his customers from the bakery. “This is Jerry, he killed the President! I know him. I shop at his bakery all the time. This guy is going to be a rock star!”
“I have to go. I don’t want to be a rock star. I’m just going to go. Please don’t say anything else about me, okay? We’re friends, right? I need to get out of here. You know, don’t say anything.”
“Jerry, what you did was heroic!” The man’s friends gathered closer. “The President was going to kill this helpless guy for not reciting the whatever it is. And Jerry killed that little fucker instead! Fucking genius. He saved our country! He’s a hero! A fucking rock star!”
Jerry turned towards the door, but it was too late. Different people were pointing and others were spreading the story around. When he tried to exit, the customer blocked him. “Hey wait, Jerry! Come on, you can’t go. You’re a rock star, man! Look at all these people, they fucking love you!”
Soon enough, a crowd had gathered around Jerry. And no one ever saw him or heard from him again.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Yo, Shorty!

Two Bottles

A few days ago, I was talking with a classically-trained pianist about her fine Boesendoerfer baby-grand piano which is too be shipped to Berlin in the coming months. Though I cannot play the piano at all, I think it’s the “King” of instruments and find it enjoyable to mess around and play basic melodies, etc. I mentioned that there is a piano where I am staying, an old upright parlor piano probably from the 1950s. But she was clearly still lost in thoughts of playing of the special Boesendoerfer waiting somewhere back in Austria.

I then remembered an old organ that I bought at a garage sale maybe 15 years ago. It was $15. She re-engaged me eyes and asked how I was playing that thing.
“Oh, it was pretty easy, just flip some switches and you have a whole mechanical back-up band at your disposal. Any idiot can make something when you have that kind of technology behind you!”
“Well, it’s no Boesendoerfer, but it sounds fun!” she replied. I couldn’t tell if she was being condescending or not. “Do you still play it?”
“Oh no. It lived in the music room, which is in the basement of my cabin. It’s damp down there and eventually the organ started having problems. Some of the keys stopped performing, etc. I gave it to some neighbor. I would have to say we did an ‘organ transplant,’ actually.”
She laughed, “But the transplanted organ didn’t work so well. That wasn’t very nice.”
“It’s better to have a partially functioning organ than no organ at all, isn’t it?” I asked.
“I suppose so,” she replied, looking at me in a way wholly different than before. Maybe less trusting.
“Well, you are welcome to your opinion, but I feel like quite a good person having transplanted that organ,” I continued. “I think we should celebrate with a bottle of proseco, actually!”
“In that case, I agree, you did a fine thing transplanting that organ,” she finally agreed.
“I hope to transplant another organ after the prosecco!” I remarked as I flagged the waiter down.
She laughed and said, “In that case, let’s have champagne.” And we did. Two bottles.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

At Cafe! Drinking More Coffee!!

Wednesday: Berlin Frustration

Besides the ever-changing weather situation, there are lots of other happenings making the days since I arrived very unfun and quite unproductive.

First off, so far, there is no working internet service where I am staying. I can’t tell you how annoying it is to have to leave this place every time I want to check the email. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if I didn’t have a show that needs tending to in NYC or if I wasn’t negotiating to purchase a place here RIGHT NOW! Of course, there are ways to lessen the hassle, but only lessen and not alleviate. It’s ridiculous and causing me to waste a lot of time while feeling anxious and crappy. It also lessens any feeling of connection I would have with the apartment I’ve swapped for my own. This is bad too because it keeps me going to places with wifi—which also means spending money. Then you forget something and have to go back again. I can’t tell you how much unwanted coffee has already gone down the hatch.

Otherwise, the place is fine.

Unforeseen troubles have also arisen on the property front. It turns out there is no fridge or electrical hook-up for a fridge at the new place. Also, no hook-up for a clothes-washing machine. Really weird. Other problems include: loose faucets, unattached window hardware, unconnected vents in bathroom, etc. I’ve asked for these things to be repaired and, so far, the answer is “No.” Can you believe that shit? What’s up? It’s an extremely large turn-off and the deal is now very much in question. I have begun looking for other places, as well.

Geez. So, it’s been really difficult to get feeling good about anything. Though I did get a German phone number and cell phone which is forcing me to learn German the hard way. I have to keep both phones with me for reference. Really a lot of ridiculous garbage at the moment. Transitional static.

On the up side, the i-touch works sometimes allowing for randomly happy/frustrating email checking periods, some of which end for no reason. There is a real technical bias against Macs here, that’s for sure. The problem with the internet connection here at this place is that the ISP does poorly with Macs. It’s all over the internet how crappy this ISP is. Great!

So, I am supposed to get a neighbor’s wireless info sometime in the next 24 hours. In the meantime, I’m tethered around here—free to the coffee shop. What a pain in the ass!

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Last Night in Taylors Falls

One more night in TF, then off to Brent's place in Maple Grove in preparation for my early morning Monday flight. It's raining and cold today, but a couple of buddies are stopping up for barbecue, rock and whatever we can salvage out of the weather. It was my Mom's 83rd Birthday a few days back, which was a mellow celebration. Steaks at my brother's place. Very nice.
Also showed my new Electric Bike to family at the stores. I rode the thing 10 miles and it took about 30 minutes total. You must pedal, but the option of the assistance of the attached electrical hub motor makes facing hills a much less daunting task. A great product. If it wasn't raining today, I would have taken it on the road to Coffee Talk, where I am at now.

Working on the show in New York City, "Working Fiction," which is about the space between ideas, "reality" and documentary. We've got a good list of artists and loads of work to do. All happening in these small gaps of time I will actually be in NYC. There next week, then again in late July. Why?
Off to Berlin, of course. It looks like everything is moving forward on the purchase of the place there. Though I have an issue or two to iron out. Nothing major. Wishing my German language skills were more usable. I will be in need of translating assistance, that's for sure. But I should be moving in in July! Back in October to set up my first show!

Hmmm...That's the majority of the excitement right now. The gig with the band turned out to be at Jackson Sq. Park in NE Mpls, not the more glamourous Loring Park. Also, my friend Ben D. who always produces the band, turned up and told me he would playing the Loring show later this summer! Blasted! He's always a step (at least) ahead! But, the show was shot with multiple cameras along with an actual sound guy for the recording, so the documentation should be interesting. We're talking about videos for every single song on the new album, so maybe the footage of us playing in a hole in a park come to use.

I just realized, maybe we could put a live track or two on the new record, "Girl Trouble/Cop Trouble," is the title, btw...

Lastly, my colleague, Michelle Heinz gave me a nice painting for my cabin while she was passing through town. It's of a gutted salmon. I hope it isn't a precursor to trouble. No, it is a good painting. A nice fit for the cabin collection.

Okay, now back to prepping for good times with rock and roll buddies of yore. Next time will likely be from NYC, God willing!