Monday, September 10, 2018

With Apologies to Sergio Leone and Clint Eastwood


 This is how my Sunday went: morning at the Art Institute; afternoon on the exercycle with the White Sox game on the TV; evening on the couch, to watch the Bears-Packers’ game.  It’s what you might call the good, the bad and the ugly.
Because culture is too important to leave to snobs, I put on my San Francisco Seals’ jacket and made my way downtown to the Art Institute; Michele and I didn’t want to miss the John Singer Sargent show that’s closing in a few weeks.  How to put this?  Sargent painted portraits the way some people are said to be able to look into other people’s souls.  Paint, pigment and brushstrokes were all means to an end for Sargent.  He put everything into the face of his subjects, whether innocence or arrogance or some quality in between.  I only wonder what Sargent could have done with Jerry Reinsdorf sitting for him.
We were home in plenty of time for me to watch the Sox lose their fifth straight, 1-0 to the Angels.  The loss of Michael Kopech seems to have “Ricky’s boys” way down.  I’d say, “Wait till next year,” but I’m not sure next year will be much better.  These are the times that…
And then we have the Bears, ahead 17-0 at halftime up in Green Bay.  Mitch Trubisky looked like an NFL quarterback; new coach Matt Nagy did a nice Bill Walsh imitation; and linebacker Khalil Mack was a revelation with a forced fumble, a fumble recovery and a pick-six.  Then something happened.  Either the Bears brought back John Fox or Aaron Rodgers returned from an injury that sidelined him in the second quarter.  After a little Rodgers’ magic, the Packers won, 24-23.
Oh, well.  I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. Sargent.

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