a year of silence

4/22/14

  Whenever i visit the local Art museum, i inevitably am given an impromptu honor guard accompaniment. It might be my appearance, my silence, or my suspicious habit of lingering over a single piece for more than 2 minutes, that accords me this accolade. Ironically, i'm the last person on earth who would do harm to any Artwork, but there never seems to be more than 6 feet between myself and at least one security person during every visit.
  I wouldn't mind all this flattering attention, except that the security guards always seem to be the noisiest people in the gallery. They chat amongst themselves about ball games and dinner plans as they watch the suspiciously quiet, yet overly enthusiastic patron planted in front of the Jackson Pollock. I recently had one guard literally do laps around me and a Vincent Van Gogh, in his squeaky shoes, nonstop, for over half an hour.
  Perhaps one of the prerequisites for becoming an Art museum security guard is a complete lack of appreciation for fine Art. After all, you don't want your staff staring at the Artwork all day. You want their undivided attention on the weirdo who's been standing in front of the Dali for (heavens to betsy) over an hour.
  I realize it is important that great Art be protected, but it also is meant to be thoroughly explored and savored, so ear plugs and patience have become essential items for a happy museum experience.