— Month of April workout totals: DON’T EVEN ASK . . .
— Well, it’s May—Derby Day at that—and I had my best night’s sleep in weeks. I even dreamed about my old employer in Evanston, with a very pleasant, lucid conversation. I’m glad to be comfortably back in the blogiverse, and it hasn’t had anything to do with News Bruiser’s recent excommunication. It’s had everything to do with a wild convergence of commitments in April that shoved aside all activity but the most essential. I’m pleased to say I was able to fulfill each of my pledges: to lead the annual meeting of our five-county Salvation Army, to participate in the spring conclave of the Kentucky Bicycle and Bikeway Commission, to attend the quadrennial national conference of the Salvation Army in Dallas, and to mount my first solo art exhibition since 2002. Whew… Can you believe I pulled it all off?
— The experience in Dallas was, without a doubt, the most powerful package of consciousness-raising stimuli that I’ve had the privilege to absorb in many, many moons. An amazing line-up: Jerry Jones, Laura Bush, Rick Warren, Jim Collins, and Israel Gaither. Plus the many workshop sessions that astonished me with their solid informational excellence, including an opportunity to hear Stan Richards, a legend in the advertising world who would’ve been a prize key-noter at any professional gathering. He’s the creative mind behind the Army’s recent “Doing the Most Good” branding effort. On top of it all, we had the wonderful gift of time spent with good friends from Danville (nine of us were there), plus an exhilarating two days at the Anatole Hilton, which is like being inside a museum, because it has a world-class collection of Asian art distributed throughout the spacious complex (Reagan held the Republican National Convention there in 1984). And I haven’t even mentioned our evening at Texas Stadium: a picnic supper on the turf, lots of entertainment, and a chance to nose around an NFL locker room. Far too cool for a guy who can probably name less than a dozen pro football players. Eat your heart out, Marty… Oh, I forgot. You hate the Cowboys.
— Also wedged into last month was a particularly refreshing “Council Day” at the Valley. Both Terie and Bruce were there, and I don’t think that’s ever happened before. Makes me a bit prouder to be the namesake of the House of John. See you all at the next Clan gathering. Same time, same channel…
— After months of preparation, my exhibition at Danville’s Community Arts Center was hung and opened without any serious mishap. True, I had to abandon several items on my wish list, including a desire to display my first “Joe Box,” but, as usual, things worked out the way they’re supposed to, and the room was arranged with enough creations to satisfy my fondest anticipations. It was a delight to welcome lots of Clan and dear friends (plus many local poobahs were in attendance). Thanks to Bruce for his home-stretch assistance, and, of course, to my ”partner in all things,” who supported my preparatory effort for much of the year, and laid out a delicious spread of goodies outside the gallery on Thursday evening. Wow. This is not the end, but only the beginning of many more successful shows. Just take a look in my eyes. I can see the vision.