I was a little too harsh yesterday. I don't hate yoga, or the people who go to yoga. I get massive benefits from going twice a week to yoga. Thanks to yoga, my neck actually moves. No, what I actually hate is downward facing dog. And I hate the young, peppy Yoga-Drill-Instructors who run us through our "poses" and these pretty-pliant-posers are wayyyyy too fond of the move that's too difficult-for-an-old geezer-guy to do. If you don't know what a downward facing dog is, basically it's an extended push-up, with your butt higher in the air with your arms pushing your butt back towards your ankles. For some reason, women do it with ease. Me, I hate it. Hate the person who invented it, hate anyone who makes me do it.
With this in mind, I had to laugh at an article in the Wall Street Journal about how more and more Boomers are taking their dogs to yoga (Boomers are taking their damn dogs on airplanes, in restaurants and even churches. What's next confession? Or swinger clubs? Oh, that's right, some already do that). Anyway, the article asks "Do dogs Do Downward Facing Human?" I don't think that's exactly right: shouldn't it be "Do Dogs Do Downward Facing Dude?" Seems more accurate and funny that way.
My studio is a pit and that's putting it mildly. However, I now have some high-powered help. Here is Curator Cal on the staircase to my loft adding a bit of class by hanging some of the many paintings, drawings and artifacts I have collected over the past 45 years. I bought those shotgun chaps in Orogrande, New Mexico back in 1991, when I was first hot on the trail of the Kid.