Yesterday, Dan and Britt flew back to NYC. Today, Anne and I went to the zoo. Our objective was to see the zoo’s latest addition to its collection, a Komodo Dragon. We got to the zoo early and headed to the reptile house. It was forty when we got there, on its way up to sixty. The coldblooded residents of the reptile house were being kept toasty warm. It was actually hot in this house and I quickly began sweating. The dragon is housed opposite the main entrance. When we first arrived, it was nowhere to be seen, but almost immediately it appeared from the far wall. It soon waddled forward, its long-forked tongue flicking about. It continued to proceed until it found a large flat rock right in front of me. There it posed, basking in its might, ready to take on the world.
Afterwards, we continued our safari. First visiting the primate house, then big cat country, with its new litter of cheetah cubs. After the bird house, we headed towards the door, exiting before small children’s meltdowns. A nice outing.
This photo is a drone shot that was gifted me by my neighbor Art. He is an architect and is also our partner on our joint tree trimming project. The history museum has its actual museum in Forest Park, about a mile or more further east. This building functions as the History Society’s main office and library. It is located on Skinker at Wydown and was hit dead on by the tornado. The building was originally a Jewish temple but has been repurposed for as long as I can remember. This is a beautiful capture, with the copper glowing in the sunlight. According to my map of the tornado’s path, it made a direct hit on this building. It might have strengthened to an F2 by then. The Missouri Historical Society has been a major benefactor to Rey’s employer. I hope that they remain so.
Yesterday, we went to the art museum. Driving to the DeMun neighborhood, we first had lunch at Barrio. Then we walked from there to the museum. The day’s weather was excellent, warm, almost eighty. Inside the museum, we immediately saw the Kiefer exhibit or at least part of it. It is a large show. Measured not only by the billboard size of its paintings, but also by the acreage of its display space. In addition to the original main hall, it is also using almost all of the new modern art wing. It makes a statement. The adage, size matters, seems to be its mantra. One that it is content to beat you over the head with. Anne liked the show, but I am less certain. I found much of his artwork too dark and foreboding.
American Ballet Theater Studio Company, Photo: Avery Brunkus
But wait there’s more. Last night, we attended a Dance St. Louis concert at the Touhill. Joanie and Anne are season ticket holders and once a season Dance STL (as they now like to be called) rewards their subscribers with a free ticket. Like last season, Anne invited me with her extra ticket and Joanie invited her knitting friend, Eileen. Last season’s show was Memphis’s College Dance Collective, who won my heart with a dance performed to a recorded Dean Martin singing That’s Amore. It was performed by a single African American dancer who wore only a dance belt (look it up). What endeared me was that just the day before I had been called out in Gyrotonics for wearing a t-shirt that rode up and exposed my butt crack. When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that’s amore.
Last night’s show kicked off Dance STL’s 60th season, a milestone to be sure. The performance was by American Ballet Theater Studio Company, ABT’s farm team. We were in the cheap seats, the UMSL student section, where fellow spectators would burst into applause at the drop of a hat or a pause of a step. JV or not the performers were good. They performed mainly classical ballet. An exception was Cornbread by Twyla Tharp, a hat tip to us in flyover country.
