Webster Art

This is not a story about painting, climbing, or family. Rather this is a story about an 11 year old kid, new to town, on his first day in a new school. His dad had got a new job. All his friends were left behind 30 miles west.

As he stood there bewildered by the new buildings, wondering which way to go, a small voice popped up beside him: “Hey there, are you new here?”.

The new kid was me, and Ted became my first friend in town. 59 years later we’re still friends through thick and thin. We got in so much trouble in high school, it was almost a right of passage to break as many laws as possible. We weren’t criminals or anything, we had our morals and sense of honor…but if a law didn’t make sense, was it really even a law?

If you lived thorough those times I need say no more. But we were there for each other through boy scouts, our first crushes, girlfriends and the inevitable heartbreaks. They were wild times but we soldiered through together.

He was there when I first picked up a guitar. He was in a band that played gigs around town, and I was invited to practices. A gang of 5 of us had our own garage band complete with some cute girls who liked our sound and the beer. His band later won a competition in Seattle and toured Europe.

I was working full-time then but still joined the band at house parties as the harp player. We jammed today for an hour, playing both old and new songs. It’s hard for me to remember the old harp riffs because I play them so seldom.

Going back to 1966 he and I and a few other friends played ping pong downstairs at my folk’s house. If you have kids, get them a ping pong table! It’s safe harmless fun and endlessly entertaining to kids of all ages. Plus it keeps them off the streets.

My dad took Ted and I on some hikes in high school, and we continued hiking afterward. Ted took this photo of me and Sue hiking and being silly in 1980:

After jamming today we wheeled his table outside and played for another couple hours. He raised his kids with a table and has some chops, especially considering he only plays every few months. Though I play up to 3 times a week, he still had me running around the table. I could not let my guard down at all or he’d be on me.

I finally painted my second grand child. I did my sons kid almost a year ago and finally got a good photo from which to paint my daughter’s kid. They are going to see it tomorrow. I hung it on the wall by the first portrait. I hope they like it. I look at it and see problems. But everyone else (Sue, Ted, Carol) all think it’s great and problem free. I’ve already spent 4 days on it and it’s in danger of getting overworked.

We’ve had the usual bout of spring colds. It’s hardest on Lisa as she is stuck so far from help. She drove up here while Levi had a fever. Nothing could make him happy and being unable to talk yet all he could do was make annoying Ahh, Ahh sounds. It was driving us all crazy but she was on day 4 of it and at wits end. Sue was right there with her. She gets on the same wavelength and the two of them are drama queens.

I played ping pong Wednesday and we had a great crowd. Randy and Bob showed up which would have been plenty, but then Lamson and his friend showed up. Lamson is the guy I took a lesson from. According to Kenny Lamson used to clean up at regional tournaments. Seeing him at our local gym was like a visit from royalty. His forehand smash is a thing of beauty. The movement of his arm as he flows through the punch reminds me of how Tiger Woods swings a golf club.

I need to work out and then start in on a portrait of Clint. He sat for me once before he had kids, but I’m afraid that window has closed. Many of my artist heros including Richard Schmid work from photos when necessary. And both of my grandkid paintings were definitely done from photos. 3 year olds don’t sit and neither do solo parents babysitting two kids under 4 years old.