Well I had a good day today and did a few touristy things.
I headed out to London Bridge and walked up the Thames to the Tate Modern.
Before I mention that I had a lovely time at the Tate, I'd like to write a brief letter to this amazing city.
Dear London,
You are very old and very exciting.
The centre of so many things in the world.
Art.
Music.
Food.
Design.
So please tell me why you have never heard of soap and scrubbing brushes?
Why is the walk along the Thames like a trip down a back alley?
Why is such a popular destination allowed to be so revolting (and why is there Starbucks and other shitty eateries allowed there too?...I'll whine about that another time...).
There were at least 5 homeless guys begging for money down there - here's a thing - pay them to clean up - they'd be busy and you'd have to pay them for long hours so they'd have plenty of cash to feed themselves and London wouldn't look so dreadful.
Anyway.
The Tate has plenty of great stuff up at the moment.
There's a Kandinsky exhibition there at the moment, but after I'd taken in Picasso, Miro, Monet and all their friends I didn't feel inclinded to pay to see Mr Kandy.
After I spent an hour or so examining these terrific images, it occured to me to do something lofty and bold to show my appreciation.
So I give you these highbrow moments.
Pollack has a shit.
Miro has a pick.
Picasso has a prick.
Most of you are probably familiar with a cartoon from the 50s (probably from The New Yorker) of a man at an exhibition of modern art.
The man is admiring the janitors cart, or a waste paper basket or something or other mundane thing in a room full of abstract sculpture.
I had a moment very much like that when I stood back to admire a rack of chairs.
Whoops!
On the way back I stopped in a park and had a lovely chat with some drunken old arsehole.
We talked congenially about so many things and when I said goodbye, he turned on me and with a major shift in mood said, "I hope I never see your fucking ugly face ever again".
I said "Same here".