The greatest dad ever turned seventy something Saturday, so we headed down to Atlanta to celebrate. The dogs joined us, which made for a full car.
Have Dogs, Will Travel
I sat in the middle row with Gipper so Bodie could give Ben the play by play of the 3:00 football games. Emery and Knute were in the third row.
My dad is not one for a big, fancy party. He asked for brisket and football with his family. Easy enough! Unfortunately, this is the only picture I took the entire evening. We were too busy eating and yelling at the television.
Parentals and Sister
Dad has long been an admirer of the Nighthawks painting by Edward Hopper. Since purchasing the real McCoy is out of the question (it’s priceless and hanging in the Art Institute of Chicago), Alison and I bought him a canvas replica. If you’re unfamiliar with the work, here’s a summary:
About Nighthawks Edward Hopper recollected, “unconsciously, probably, I was painting the loneliness of a large city.” In an all-night diner, three customers sit at the counter opposite a server, each appear to be lost in thought and disengaged from one another. The composition is tightly organized and spare in details: there is no entrance to the establishment, no debris on the streets. Through harmonious geometric forms and the glow of the diner’s electric lighting, Hopper created a serene, beautiful, yet enigmatic scene. Although inspired by a restaurant Hopper had seen on Greenwich Avenue in New York, the painting is not a realistic transcription of an actual place. As viewers, we are left to wonder about the figures, their relationships, and this imagined world.
Painted in 1942, it’s often associated with the bleakness of war. While not exactly an uplifting painting, it’s fascinating. Hopefully we can make it to Chicago at some point to see the real thing. In the meantime, this reproduction is pretty cool.
Nighthawks, Edward Hopper
An Irish victory Sunday would have been the cherry on top of a fabulous birthday weekend, but they fell short against Miami. Ugh. The game was a nail biter and I have faith that Marcus Freeman will right this ship. Love thee, Notre Dame!
