A recent post on Kansas Travel and my own visit to a gallery this week, where I was chastised by my daughter for not understanding art, reminded me that I had this set of photos from 1955 bookmarked for a long time.

It’s no Paris, but a tiny Kansas farm town grows its own crop of painters.

Up to now Attica, Kan., for all its classical name, could pass for any other tiny town in the wheatlands – a slowdown point on a rural highway leading to Wichita. But today traffic through Attica not only slows down but stops and looks. Encamped with palettes and drawing boards on the sidewalks, along the railroad, in the wheatfields are painters – singly or in bunches – recording the surroundings with the earnest concentration of Paris professionals. The painters are members of the Artists Guild of Attica, a burgeoning group that in course of three years had made the town of 622 people aware, curious and eager about art.

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Entire text of this post is taken from the Time article “Wedding Day at Independence”

“I feel that marriage vows are sacred,” memoired Margaret Truman recently, “and I hope that mine will be spared the hurly-burly attending a news event.” Last week in Trinity Episcopal Church at Independence, Mo., where her parents were married 36 years ago, Margaret, now 32, saw her hope accomplished; she became Mrs. Elbert Clifton Daniel Jr. with more dignity and less hurly-burly than a former President’s daughter and TV-radio star could expect.

A month after her engagement announcement, Margaret left Manhattan for Independence stubbornly determined on dignity. She disappeared into the family’s 14-room, white Victorian house at 219 North Delaware Street for a week’s seclusion, emerged only to greet New York Timesman Daniel when he flew in,

later to meet his parents arriving from ZebuIon, N.C., then to attend a rehearsal and post-rehearsal dinner for the bridal party.

On the wedding eve she relented slightly, agreed to join Daniel in a 20-minute press conference for 50 encamped reporters. (Sample exchange: News hen: “I would like to ask what may be an embarrassing question . . .” Daniel: “Don’t ask it.”)

The wedding day burst fair and warm; Margaret Truman walked out of the 91-year-old house a last time on the arm of her ever-punctual, this time solemn father.

A crowd had circled the Truman gate to admire her gown of antique Venetian lace, pale beige in color because “white doesn’t become me.” Margaret paused to smile at them, then ducked into a limousine for the five-minute, six-block journey to Trinity Church. “She looks beautiful, Mr. Truman,” called a voice from the crowd. “Thank you, thank you very much,” said the farther of the bride. “I think so too.”

The tiny, freshly painted church was half full; some 60-odd were there, including ten reporters chosen to represent the corps. The guests were relatives and friends.

Among them were a handful whose names were familiar: ex-Treasury Secretary John Snyder, New York Real Estate Magnate William Zeckendorf, John Frederics (whose lace-crowned bridal veil Margaret wore), Italian Couturière Micol Fontana (who was commissioned to create the wedding gown because it was a Fontana dress Margaret was wearing one evening last November when she first met Daniel).

The Rev. Patric Hutton, 30-year-old rector of the church, read the marriage ceremony, watched as Daniel slipped a plain gold band on his bride’s finger.

After the wedding a select but friendly 250 gathered at the Truman home for a reception.

After 30 minutes in the receiving line, bride and groom slipped away to catch a train for the first leg of their honeymoon in Nassau. Margaret Truman had not been the only important bride of the week, but when it was all said and done, hers was the wedding that gave the U.S. that next-door feeling even if the nation stood on tiptoe to catch every detail of the other one.

Margaret Truman Daniel passed away in 2008 at the age 83.

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Fellow Citizens (and Permanent Residents) of Kansas City and beyond!

Time has come to stand up against over-saturation of our visual space with penises, breasts and other dirty, dirty genitals. Everywhere we look, everywhere we turn, we cannot avoid being confronted with genitalia and/or breasts. Some may call it art, but we know better – it’s pornography, a mere glimpse of which leads to lust, perversion and, dare I say, fornication.

Accidental breast and penis sightings ruin our children. We all know who else loved art in all of its nakedness – people like Hitler, Charles Manson, and, I assume, Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy. One day little Hitler was looking at some shameful works of art and the next thing anyone knew….well, we all know what happened next. On the other hand, George W. Bush didn’t like art, especially the obscene kind, and he grew up to be an American President.

It’s for the well-being of the children that I call upon you to join the new organization – DOur United Citizens Hoping to Eradicate Breast And Genitalia in Sculpture. Let’s prevent the next tyrant or a murdering cannibal from growing up in our communities. Let’s raise our children to be American Presidents like George W. Bush.

Of course, we denounce any censorship, this is not Soviet Russia after all. Everyone is free to express their opinion and artistry on public property as long as it doesn’t harm the children* and/or biblical in nature. You might have heard of a whorish sculpture which every one of our children is forced to walk by on their way to and from school. Thousands of them come home in tears,embarrassed, shocked and even (god forbid) aroused! They want to know why the photos sent to them by their classmates feature a lot smaller breasts. They want to ask questions like where they can see more art like this. They spend a long time alone in their rooms and hide things hastily (probably art) when we come in unannounced.

DOur United Citizens Hoping to Eradicate Breast And Genitalia in Sculpture are here to save your children. When the offending sculpture will be finally removed from our sights and melted into something they could sell at Crate and Barrel (or at least ammo), we will all as one call on the Kansas City Administration to

Remove An Offensive Penis From Its City Hall.

Yes, your children wandering around the City Hall are confronted with a penis and it hurts them now and for the rest of their lives.

Fellow Citizens (and Permanent Residents) of Kansas City and beyond! DOur United Citizens Hoping to Eradicate Breast And Genitalia in Sculpture have a lot of work ahead of us. This Metro Area is literally stuffed with thousands of penises and boobs.

We need to move fast before it’s too late and we have another Hitler on our hands.

Email all the (sculptural) penis and boob sightings to douchebags@gmail.com

*Everything hurts the children.

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It’s time for my annual Public Service Announcement about checking your eligibility for the Kansas City, Missouri Earnings Tax refund. From the point of view of someone who doesn’t reside in the KCMO but is unfortunate to work there, the Earnings Tax is a way to confiscate 1% of a person’s gross income and hand it over to what what one blog refers to as a “privileged class”, so they can continue to enjoy a tax free lifestyle.

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Celebrity death week went worldwide when the most famous Russian folk singer and the namesake of an asteroid – Lyudmila Zykina died on July 1st, just weeks after her 80th birthday. Even when I was a kid, she seemed old, I was actually surprised that she was only 80, I thought she was eighty in 1976. It’s probably safe to say that there is no person who grew up in the USSR who doesn’t know who she was or couldn’t recognize her distinct voice. She was everywhere – concerts, radio, TV and at that time not exactly someone my generation wanted to listen to, but in a system with 3 TV channels and a few radio stations we got our share of her singing. Seems pretty good now, not so much when I was 10.

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXg5h_lzG_A

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFHOO72GoMA

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