Wednesday, May 24, 2006

don't touch the janitor!

we only spent about 3 hours in Milwaukee and one of the first things that met us there was Duane Hanson’s Janitor, 1973. weary and introspective, he invites a close inspection while emanating personal space. so I went up to compare keys with him. that’s when a crazy lady started screaming “don’t touch the janitor! don’t touch the janitor! don’t touch the janitor!” from the mezzanine. nobody’s touching the janitor ma'm, it’s ok.

she was crazy because she was wearing pink gloves and a big white sweater in the heat, and because she yelled at me a bunch. also, I saw her at other moments wrangling with the real museum guards and curators. but there’s nothing crazy about looking after the janitor. when I was in 6th grade we had a school janitor/custodian named Mike. one day he came to work on a shiny new motorcycle that he’d clearly worked very hard to afford. harley, goldwing, whatever, I don’t know. but not too many days later a bunch of kids spent recess throwing rocks at it and pretty much totaling the body.


kel said...

this last part would make a great latter-day saint film about how we need to be nice to people.

jo said...

our janitor's name was Mr. Jolly and I remember him being, like, seven feet tall. he had a thick bushy beard and lots of hair and it was all flaming red. Now put that all together. he wasn't the jolliest of fellows. infact I was scared of him. he was kind of like that lady that yelled at you... only he was the janitor.

Robert Vollman said...

That's a pity. Everyone knows that high school custodians named Mike are generally your best source for booze, smokes and weed.