ART APPRECIATION?

 "Art" must be the most all-encompassing noun in the English language. It covers everything from striptease to sculpture, from caterwauling off-key to customizing antique autos, from soup to nuts ...
  And when I see some of the excrement that is described as "art," my first reaction tends to be "nuts," in preference to soup. A good example is the Terry Fox memorial in Vancouver. This strange structure has received a pretty poor press, and when I saw it recently for the first time, I realized the critics were correct. It resembles nothing so much as the upper floor of a second-rate Chinese restaurant. You almost expect to see a neon dragon atop it all, flashing on and off. When I think of the nationwide inspiration that emanated from Terry Fox, I'm outraged that that pink marble atrocity was considered a fitting tribute.
  I suppose that means you can put me down as "doubtful" about its artistic merit ...

  It's amazing, when you consider how little money we are all supposed to have these days, how many people find the cash to dine out in restaurants. I know, because I often do it myself, and I see cafes crowded to the doors at peak mealtime periods.
  It's a changing world we live in, with people spending more and more time away from their homes, and I guess this is just another example.
  We never used to enjoy such luxury in the 1950s when I was a kid, although there were probably far fewer families on welfare back then. We were lucky if we got to eat in a restaurant three times a year, not because we were poor, but because no one did. A particular treat in the summer occurred when we were allowed to go to the fish and chips shop down the street to get a "take out" dinner for the family. We would march importantly up to the counter and order the chips and fish, and then carefully carry home the warm, squashy package.
  I remember that we also would buy a carton of six small bottles of "Kik" cola. (Stand up, all of you that remember Kik. Oh, that many, eh? We're older than we think.)
  Even that practice has changed markedly, when you consider the volume of pop that is poured down thirsty throats these days.                                                              Aug. 15, 1984