A portrait of the artist as a wet dog.

I took Friday off and drove up to Virginia for GC Myers' 10th show at the Principle Gallery in Alexandria. That's Mr. Myers up there, in front of one of his paintings and standing beside an alcoholic hobo who had staggered into the gallery and pestered the more cultured patrons. This was taken shortly before the police arrived. You can see the look of discomfort, bordering on fear, on Gary's face.

As always, The Nephew and his ever-patient wife (Mrs. Nephew) treated me like visiting royalty. But this trip I was more like the visiting senile uncle, forgetting small, unimportant things like my toothbrush, walking shoes and money.

On the evening of the show, Gary and his lovely wife Cheri could not have been more gracious or entertaining even though the last words out of Jenny's mouth as I left North Carolina were, "We can't afford a painting."

And the temptation could not have been greater. The gallery walls were covered in work that whispered, "Take me home." To Gary's benefit, quite a few people succumbed to the voices and red dots proliferated like zits on a teenager's face the week before the prom. This painting I know went to a happy young couple. Congratulations HYC!

Gary was toasted (as was I, but in a completely different way) by collectors who spoke touchingly about what his paintings mean to them. More than one couple use a purchase of Gary's art to mark an important day like the birth of a child or an anniversary.

Wow. No one has ever said about my work, "Yes, we saw on Amazon that your book contains the words 'goat fucker' and we just had to have it to celebrate our daughter's engagement."

I'm obviously doing something wrong.

So, congratulations on a good show, Gary, and we promise not to violate the restraining order again until next year.

Tomorrow! More art!