Yesterday I had the pleasure of volunteering with Art Center Sarasota for its Private Eyes tour—a tour of lovely homes in town with fabulous private art collections.
As a result, the 1981 Hall & Oats song “Private Eyes” has been permanently marked in my conscious mind. I know about 10 words to the song, which I’m trying desperately to forget, but continue to mentally repeat them in a hellish rolling record nonetheless. I am ready to be Baker acted.
The volunteering gig was enjoyable. I am left with a great respect for all of those who opened up their homes to the sea of strangers who arrived with (and without) manners, looking at their stuff, commenting good things (and bad) about their most prized possessions, and shedding DNA calling cards on their floors, rugs, walls and windows. In general, people were on very good behavior and I would surely call the event a grand success.
However, it was one of those days I thank heavens for my little 7 room house in Bradentucky, with no worries of being called on for tour duty.
By the way, misery loves company:
2 comments:
thought i would drop by and say, hi! and thanks for commenting on my barred owl post. i think i would miss the autumn, too, if i were in florida, but isn't florida fantastic? i love it there!
I went to an art open house last Sunday and had an amazing time--glad you got to enjoy some great art, despite the 80s side effect LOL
Thanks for stopping by over at my place the other day! I hope you'll visit again soon!
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