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October 16, 2006

Art on the Chester

Among her many pursuits this fall, Robbi is teaching a class at Washington College, the 9th oldest college in the US, and the only one to which the original GW knowingly gave his name. She is a visiting lecturer in the art department and her class is called called Digital Imaging. This mostly involves teaching Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator with some art concepts thrown in for good measure.

Donald McColl is the head of the art department at Washington College. He is an affable, energetic guy who is extremely excited to build his department. The college added a new full time art professor this fall and has a healthy stable of adjunct professors, of which Robbi is one. To celebrate his newly robust department and to build a bit of unity, Don chartered the College pontoon boat and invited the entire department for a picnic cruise.

Here we are setting out.

And here we are settling in. On the left, in the blue and yellow rainoat is Ann, Donald's wife. She was our hostess and, as we left the dock, immediately made sure that each of us had a drink of our choosing. The gentleman next to her in the blue shirt is Drew. He teaches drawing and painting. Next to him is Aileen, art history professor. Captain Don is at the helm. Next to Don in the back is Monica, the new art professor and performance artist. Next to Monica is Denise, who teaches photography. You already know Robbi. As usual, she is smiling.

Chestertown, which was at one point the largest port in the US, is approximately 12 miles inland. Not long after Boston had its famous Tea Party, Chestertown hosted its own, with one important distinction. Unlike Boston, where the rebel colonials dressed like Indians to divert blame, the protesting Chestertonians wore their own clothes. The whole affair can be relived on an annual basis at the Chestertown Tea Party reenactment. At a predetermined time, a skirmish erupts in the center of town, a block or so from the barn. A group of rowdy colonials then marches down to the waterfront, boards a small vessel, paddles out to the waiting Schooner Sultana (more on the Schooner Sultana later), boards the larger boat, engages in rowdy fisticuffs with the British soldiers, and eventually tosses the soldiers into the water. It's a hoot. I have twice been asked to participate, but in the role of an ousted British soldier, which would have meant unceremonious tossing. I suppose one has to pay one's dues and be tossed for a few years before getting to be a tosser. Perhaps this will be my year to be tossed. I'll be sure to post my decision well in advance so that you may come watch if such a thing would make you happy.

Drew and Aileen, with the Schooner Sultana in the background (as I said before, more on the Sultana to come).


Captain Don took us two miles downriver toward the Bay. We found a cove and docked. Ann pulled out some mighty fine wraps, salads, and deserts. It was really quite nice. As we ate, we complimented the hostess on the spread. It gratified her to no end. See?

In the background here is the aforementioned Schooner Sultana. Though I'll likely botch many of the details, the Sultana is a recreation of a boat from Chestertown's merry colonial days. The boat was made by local craftsmen and supported by private contributions. Its hull is made from local Osage Orange. It has sails. It is quite nice. Etc. Kids go on educational cruises on the Sultana. It was out trolling under sail as we whizzed by on the speedy pontoon. Don considered having a "gam" and then taking her by force. As far as art guys go, he is pretty tough. Don is a 24 enthusiast. He and I often talk about our admiration for Jack Bauer. Had it been just Don and I and Jack Bauer we would have totally hijacked the Sultana. But there were other sensitive artist types on board and ultimately, we didn't want to upset their stomachs.

After the picnic was finished, we admired the late afternoon light for a while, each of the artist types on board offering his or her suggestion as to which landscape painter's work the sky most resembled (I was shot down for my suggestion of Seuss).

We headed back. Always a generous sort, Captain Don allowed Aileen a try at the helm. Reluctant at first, Aileen eventually discovered the contagious power of the throttle bar and soon had us heading home at an outrageous clip.

Well fed, in good company, serene, stoic. (Sultana.)

And here she is again. I've been learning in my time near the water that all boats are girls. Boat people take this fact very seriously.

So as not to leave you with a lasting image of stoicism, I submit a smile, which is indicative of how I felt as we approached home.

We slipped into our moorings as the last rays of light fell. It was a lovely outing. Thank you, Captain Don.

Posted by bogenamp at October 16, 2006 04:14 AM