My sister, Amy, is the family historian. She remembers dates and places, when and where minor and significant events took place and we rely on her to keep track of things. The boxes of 35mm slides that our parents left behind are in good hands with her. She recently culled a few hundred and we sent them to a place in Utah to be scanned.
Our brother, Mark, was in town this weekend to see the Leo Dodd show at the Geisel Galley so we rounded up five of the seven Dodds, pictured above, and took a look at the photos on our tv. The family is a little spread out so there were very few pictures of the seven of us together. I like the coon hats on Fran and Tim, the smiles on our faces and the Rouault prints that my dad had on the wall behind us.
Our brother-in-law, Howie, brought olives and beer, Genesee’s Ruby Red Kolsch, a picture-perfect combo.
We played Margaret Explosion music from the past month at low volume. I had never seen many of the photos. I thought I identified a young Brad Fox in one one of them, rough housing at the pool with my brother, Fran, but my sister thinks it is someone else. She is probably right. Memory is far from factual and I prefer it that way.
We stopped by the closing party of Zanne Brunner’s art show. She took us over to a stack of her work, looking for a drawing of Peggi and me playing at the Little. She wanted to give us the drawing but someone had already bought it.