Query:  Where would we live if we had a choice? Not Midwest City 1, nor, we regret to say, even Midwest City 2.

Midwest City 2 was the more attractive of the two, celebrated for old-fashioned virtues, like a viable downtown, safe urban neighborhoods, and an excellent transit system. 

But things were changing in the early 21st century.  A huge mall was built on the edge of the city. The Chinese Tea Room closed. The department stores closed. Java Joe’s closed, The Breakfast Place and Arnie’s Pizzeria closed.  A special section in the newspaper was devoted to restaurant closings.

And that wasn’t the end:  deer began to move into the city.  When you see a herd of deer in the middle of the street you know something’s wrong with the ecology.

Sometimes, out of sheer idleness when I was new to the city, I went to the nearby art museum.  What I loved most was Jackson Pollock’s 1943 painting, Mural, which was on loan from the University of Iowa.

Mural was commissioned by Peggy Guggenheim, and it hung in Peggy’s entrance hall in her townhouse in New York.  She donated it to the university in 1951.  It was installed in the university’s new museum in 1969.

The more I thought about it, the more impressed I was by Peggy Guggenheim’s intervention in his career, sponsorship of his work, and her influence on critics, curators, and gallery owners.  Looking at Mural is dizzying but also oddly calming:  the colors and patterns are perfectly intermeshed and one sees faces and animals, as well as other abstract figures. It is enormous: almost 20 feet in length and eight feet high. 

Pollock, known for his abstract expressionism, later developed his “drip style,” splattering paint or pouring it directly from the can on the horizontal canvas.  

A FEW WORDS ABOUT READING IN THE EARLY 2000s

When we first moved here I spent a lot of time – so much time – reading.  I complained to my doctor during the annual checkup:  “I’ve already read 100 books this year.  Don’t you think that’s strange?” By strange, of course, I meant pathetic. 

His reply: “The only strange thing is that you write it down.”

I laughed. Memo to Self: Give Dr. a book!