[This is what happens when I make a concerted effort not to write for a whole day — my mind goes walkabout.]

Would I pay a fortune for a guitar?

Possibly not, since I don’t know how to play it. Though if it had belonged to someone like, say, Andres Segovia — arguably the world’s greatest classical guitarist — or the late, great jazz guitarist Charlie Byrd . . . then, as a collector’s item, I might consider it.

But would I shell out $10K for this next one?

Not in this lifetime (or any other).

But then, some guy with more money than brains (or taste) just paid over $6 million for this piece of “art” . . . which he says he’s going to eat.

He’d better hurry, because it looks like it’s beginning to rot.

There’s no accounting for taste, of course — in art, or in bananas. Personally, I prefer mine with just a tinge of green. Bananas, that is. And I like my art on canvas, or carved from a beautiful hunk of stone. But, again, to each his own.

I think I’ll go now, and hang a bunch of grapes on a coat rack. There must be somebody on eBay with a few thousand extra Dollars, Euros, Yen . . . anything but Rubles . . . who likes grapes and doesn’t have a coat closet.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/22/24