Tripping Over The Carpet's Edge: The Playful Pair

It was a perfect Sunday afternoon. My son, Andy, and I ventured to the R. Roberts Gallery in Avondale to hook up with Peter Max. Peter knew we were coming because we had to make a reservation for hours we would be there.

As most of my friends know, I wanted to own a Peter Max painting in 1972 when I began my career as a serious art collector (just kidding). The woman sitting at the desk next to me had a sister who owned an art gallery in McLean, VA, and told me that her sister had Peter Max artwork for sale in her gallery and that I should call her. I ordered sight unseen a “The Playful Pair” serigraph for $175.00. At the time, my salary was $68.50 a week, and between the car payment and the money I spent on clothes, there was little left over for expensive artwork. I saved up for several months and finally had what I needed to own my idea of a masterpiece. When I said “sight unseen,” I meant it. I trusted my friend’s sister to pick out the most colorful piece in her collection and ship it to me at work. It arrived in a giant crate, and when I opened it up during my lunch hour, only a few of my co-workers “got” it. However, after work, I was thrilled with my new acquisition and took it to Spillers in Five Points to have it framed. It has been with me ever since, and I still smile when I see it.

“The Playful Pair” by Peter Max

Peter Max has visited Jacksonville on many occasions, but I was able to match his schedule with mine on Sunday. So I wore my Peter Max watch with its dead battery freshly replaced, Andy took along the four vintage Peter Max books I gave him for Christmas last year, and we headed to Avondale to hob-knob with the art crowd.

Peter Max Then

Thirty-nine years have taken their toll on Peter Max, and he no longer looks like the hip, the mustachioed hunky guy he was in the seventies. I, of course, looking the same as I did in 1972, had always wanted to meet him and let him know that “The Playful Pair” was the grooviest investment I’d ever made regarding artwork. The print’s value has increased immensely. But let’s just say there is no way I could afford to buy one of his pieces today. I have more sense than money, not to mention limited wall space in my home.

Upon entering the gallery Sunday, it was clear that we were not the only Peter Max fans in Jacksonville. Quite a few people were having a ball looking at his newest works. The gallery was serving a nice Mimosa, and several others brought their Peter Max memorabilia, hoping to cop an autograph for old time’s sake. One woman brought her set of Peter Max bed sheets.

Peter Max Now

I had encouraged Andy to bring the set of small colorful books entitled “Love,” “God,” “Peace,” and “Thought” (so very “70s”) to have them autographed by the artist. No go for four, however. I didn’t realize that an autograph would cost us, but we figured since it was to be a donation going to the Las Vegas Animal Rescue Center (for missing and exploited tigers) to get an autograph, we’d give in and donate. Unfortunately, the donation allowed for one autograph and one autograph only, so since Peter Max had an entourage of crowd controllers making sure no one used their cameras and a security guard to ensure everyone behaved, we were unable to weasel him into signing the entire set of books. I thought about trying to hit him up for another autograph while he was outside using his cell phone, but I hated to put him on the spot and or be attacked by “his people.”

I approached him to shake his hand, and he seemed only slightly interested in my banter about seeing references to his work in a display at the D’Orsay Museum in Paris. Among the works of Monet and Van Gogh, I’ll go with Peter Max any day. I thought he was very polite leaving the gallery to use his cell phone, probably to check in with his long-lost swami. He wasn’t a particularly warm or gushing kind of guy, but he was pleasant enough and had a good firm handshake which I think is very important when a man is shaking a woman’s hand. Doctors are terrible about this. At least he wasn’t carrying hand sanitizer in his pocket for use after every shake.

Peter Max loves color. He loves color even more than I do. His newest displays were imaginative, magnificent works of color. He had renderings of hearts and flowers, rock icons, lovely ladies, and special events on display. Unfortunately, you just needed a cool $4995.00 to acquire a miniature painting. The incentive of a free poster wasn’t enough to make Andy and I indulge in purchasing his latest picture, but then we weren’t there to buy. The bottom line is that his paintings make me smile, just like my son Andy does.

On the way to the car, we walked by “The Casbah Café,” one of “Jacksonville’s premiere hookah lounges” and decided to have lunch on the patio in front of the restaurant. The weather was perfect, and no one was ahead of us, so we went. Unfortunately, I don’t get to spend the day with my son as often as I would like. He’s busy at work and has a sweetheart of a girl who captures most of his attention. Whenever I’m with Andy, I’m always wowed by his incredible humor and outstanding wit. At age twenty-five, he’s well-mannered, eats with silverware, and inquired about what spices were on the hummus before he ordered his lunch. Thankfully, he is not a picky eater. We both ordered Gyros. Andy clarified a few things on the menu for me without making me feel like a Mom who has never been to a hookah lounge. I would have tried hookah smoking to say I’d done it, even though using a community smoking vessel hasn’t been on my bucket list.

Wait - I’m getting a flashback.

I finally met my favorite living artist and enjoyed doing it with my wonderful boy. I’m waiting now for another flashback.

Peace and Love.