How to be Hip
President Lyndon Johnson shows reporters the scar from his gall bladder surgery
My father was appalled back in 1965 when LBJ pulled up his shirt to show reporters the scar from his gall bladder operation; he thought it was tacky, and beneath the dignity of the presidency. Maybe he was right. All I can say is that standards of presidential tackiness have changed since then, and not necessarily for the better.
I share these photographs from my recent hip replacement not in the spirit of tackiness or exhibitionism, however, but because I found the whole business of getting a new hip really quite interesting.
It’s not as if you just pop down to the store, after all, and pick a new hip off the shelf. There are all kinds of tests and x-rays and consultations beforehand; there is the business of being prepped on the day for the big event - the drip inserted, the epidural in the spine, the journey on the gurney along hospital corridors and into the theatre where - curiously detached onlooker that you have now become - you see yourself being hoisted like a sack of potatoes onto the operating table and then, in another instant, find yourself looking into the reassuring face that swims overhead to hear the welcoming words, hello Glen, it’s all over, the operation went well, you’re doing fine.
And then - same day, mind you - you are back home in your own house, and within a week or thereabouts feeling strong enough to take a walk with a walker down the lane and then with a cane along Marchmount Road.
It’s all rather amazing, really - a fact brought home to me when I went, two weeks after the procedure, to have the staples removed, and saw an x-ray of my new hip - this great metal sculpture, with its ball-and-socket at the top, resting inside my leg.
I forgot to mention: the first words I uttered, when I came round on the operating table, were words of unutterable gratitude and relief. I doubt that the team of surgeons and nurses attending to me heard any of it - the words that rang true in my head were probably no more than indistinct burbles to them - but they were true nonetheless.
I am immensely grateful for the care I received; I am glad it is over; I am getting better every day.
Before I get too sentimental and schlocky, mind, let me share with you this get-well card, from our dear friends Stephen and Elizabeth.
Maybe not a bad idea….
Propellor Gallery | Salon 18
For those of you who are in, or live near, Toronto, do swing by in August to see the artworks on display at Salon 18 at the Propellor Gallery including photographs by yours truly and collages by Rob - better still, come to the opening event, if you can, from 5 - 8 pm on August 1st.
Queen St West
Toronto’s Art + Design District
Propeller is located at 30 Abell Street, the heart of Toronto’s Queen West Gallery District in Artscape’s Triangle Lofts Building.
Open: Wednesday – Saturday: 1 – 5:30 pm
Sunday: 12 – 4 pm
Staying In My Lane
It will come as no surprise that I have not been out much this month, taking photographs. Yet there are always images to be found, or made, close to hand - here are a couple of shots, three actually, taken in Victor Jara lane, which runs behind our house, while recuperating.
But I have also found a bit of a creative outlet, in this housebound time, going through the photographs of Toronto that I have taken since Rob and I got back from our five year stint in South Africa, two years ago, and making selections for a new portfolio and, perhaps, a new photo zine.
I have had fun, too - taking a break from social media while I recover - clearing out my mental clutter, and immersing myself in the work of photographers I admire - Saul Leiter and Ernst Haas, two great mid-century photographers, in particular.
The Toronto project is ongoing, but as soon as a new portfolio is up on my website, I will share the link. Meanwhile, hopefully to whet your appetites, not to mention to fill out this blog, here are a few initial selections that I thought I might share.
Travel Beckons
If July has been a month of rest and recuperation, and largely confined to home, August and September are a time for travel - Pennsylvania with Rob’s sister (and my fave sister-in-law) Cynthia and her grandson Logan in August, a couple of nights away in Niagara-on-the-Lake towards the end of the month to celebrate Rob’s 70th birthday, and then, come September, we are off to Greece - Athens, and the Cycladic islands of Sifnos and Serifos with our good friends Lisa and Klaus.
I will take a camera (or two); there will be photographs.