Friday Hometown Shootout - Hearts

BAGMAN (Whining):  "Come on, guys!  We're men! We don't do hearts!"

BUTLER: "You testosterone is showing, Baggie.  It's just an assignment.  Go with it."

I had just entered the B&B studio and felt a pang of guilt because I kind of agreed with Bagman.  I'm not a huge fan of frilliness although we have a fair amount around the house -- none acquired by me.  To be truthful, I wasn't sure whether we had things with hearts on them or not but suspected that I'd find some if I looked.  "Maybe I'll just go around the house and see if I find anything," I said, "and post just it to keep up my participation level."

BAGMAN: "Wuss."

BUTLER: "Or you might find a heart shape in some abstract?"

BAGMAN: "Like this one?"

BUTLER:  "With all those rounded shapes there's bound to be a heart shape somewhere."

So we looked for a long time, inverted the photo, and tried everything but we could fnd no heart shapes at all.  It was just a heartless picture.

BAGMAN: "Or we could show a real heart!"

I cringed at the thought of how we might acquire a real heart.

BAGMAN: "Or something at looks like a real heart."

"Hmmm," I said wisely.  "I'll just go and see what I can find around the house."

And, of course, they were everywhere.  Maybe not quite everywhere.  But there were enough to surprise me since I had never noticed any of them before, probably because I'm...as Bagman says...a man.

There were hearts on the wall

There were hearts carved into shelves

There were hearts on a throw that Karen had just found in a yard sale.

Our cat, Bill, was lying on a quilt that had hearts (and stars) on it.

He wasn't overjoyed at being wakened.

Kay's new rattle was hearty

Although the handle is oddly designed to frustrate

any baby's attempt to hold it.

And Kay's pacifier had a heart on it. 

And there were others, but I had grown tired of the game after awhile and went back downstairs.

BUTLER: "How did you do?"

"Well, I discovered that I haven't taken a major role in the interior design of our home," I replied. 

Bagman's Navy Base Pictures

Since the boys and me are communicating more, I stopped down to the studio just to chat and see if they had any ideas about the Friday shoot.

BUTLER: "Come on, Mark.  It's 'the boys and I.'  Subject, not object."

I nod politely...or maybe I should say "me nod politely".   And I look over at Bagman.  He just glares back.

BAGMAN: "Don't try and stop me!! Go away!!"

BUTLER (leaning over and explaining quietly):  He's upset about the Navy Base Blogs.  We did the houses and then you told the hawk story...

"Against my will," I remined him. 

BUTLER: "It doesn't matter.  Bagman just feels left out because he had been working on some pictures from that day as well and we were ignoring him."

"But we need to work on hearts for Friday," I whisper back.

BAGMAN: "I heard that!  And I'm posting my genius art first!! 

"Did we really take that many different pictures at the Navy Base?" I ask Butler.

BUTLER: "You know you don't get out much and when you did, you kind of went trigger happy."

BAGMAN:  "Stop talking or I won't have room for my pictures.

We both shut up and leave the post to him.

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BAGMAN: "Well I didn't really plan it this way.  I just like the spikey things on the navy ships that are dry-humped at the Deyton's Shipyard at the base."

BUTLER:  "That's dry-docked, Baggie.

BAGMAN: "Shut up.  So I shot it even though it was directly into the sun.

BAGMAN: "And since Mark is always upstairs playing with that baby, diapers and bottles and things,
I used his Photoshop.  DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!  I CAN USE IT IF I WANT!  And I cropped it and made a black and white.

BAGMAN:  "And then I...well, I don't know exactly what I did.  I just pushed buttons.  Real artists can't be expected to know what they're doing!  DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!"

BAGMAN: "And I did this one."

BAGMAN: "And this one."

BAGMAN: "And this one.   So there!  Ha!  Call the Museum of Modern Art!"

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BUTLER: "That last one would look a little like Max Ernst if you put some color behind it and added some transparency."

BAGMAN:  "Critics!  I hate critics!  Leave me be, you curs!  Don't mess with genius!"

"They're fine, Bagman,"  I say, politely.  "Go ahead and post them."

BUTLER (Leaning close and whispering in my ear):  "I wonder where he learned the word 'curs'."