Avant-garde

So I was walking out of work thru the parking garage yesterday, its one of those giant quadruple decker parking garages you have to drive up and down in a spiral. Im on the first level walking to my truck and I hear the song “We didn’t start the fire”... damn Billy Joel song…blaring... “it was always burning since the world’s been turning..” blah blah.. from way up probably the top of the parking garage. And then I see it. Down comes this old ice cream truck, all painted like the American flag, with a giant megaphone and a bunch of old TVs strapped to the roof. The TVs were looped, playing an atomic bomb blowing up, over and over. Two scraggly long haired white boys in blue tuxedos were in the truck, driving and blending. These jimokes were tossing fresh food into blenders then spraying it out the back everywhere. Brand new from the grocery store food, unwrapping it and blending it. A new bag of apples blended with hotdogs. A bunch of avocados blended with corn. Blending up all kinds of food as fast as they could. They put it into this big funnel that sprayed it all out the back of the truck, like they was painting the parking lot. Garlic and watermelon all over my white truck, my chef jacket, my face. I says to them what are ya doin? - Art! - you call that art? - oh I call my foot in your face art - and we go on like that and I end up pulling out this “artist” straight from the truck and gave him two black eyes and a broken nose. He was screaming at me about avant garde art and how his performance was about freedom. Freedom got nothin to do with art. Blending up hamburger meat with cherries and spraying it all over cars and such. We all know they was just wasting perfectly good food and time. GREGORY MARK SONDROL © 05/11/2021