Paducah Daydreamin'

The Grumpy Old Man Waits for Me to Catch Up

I'm just back, fresh off the road from my first trip to Paducah. Reading comments that were left on my last post describing the itinerary, I laughed when I read jenclair's: "... have a great time, get inspired, buy stuff!" She must have ESP.

For those who have yet to visit, the Museum of the American Quilt Society is a lovely facility, though not terribly large. It's informal--no watchdogs--and visitors are allowed to get right up to the quilts, noses just inches away. You just can't touch and you can't photograph (darn it), but it's delightful to examine all those tiny stitches and subtle touches from a perspective you cannot get behind a chain at a quilt show or from a book. I knew I was deluding myself that Don would entertain himself, but he was actually a good sport and an enthusiastic one. It was kind of fun to point out things to him. His first response was, "Man, this place makes you feel like a pair of tennis shoes at a dress ball." Since he is not the quiltmaker in the family, I must infer that I am the tennis shoes. But hey, as I was saying, if the Nike fits ....

When he tired of making like a Hermitage-nik (the old ladies who guard the rooms at The Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia) on a folding chair and benches, he moseyed out to the car to find a place to catnap. Before leaving me to continue at my leisure he asked, "You know how most things never quite measure up to your expectations? [Well, they don't usually in his world, anyway.] Did it meet yours? Because I thought it would be good, but I had no idea it would be this good." I smiled and said it had met my expectations, and a bit more.

The Fons & Porter exhibit was interesting in that it showed the evolution of their work over their 25-year collaboration. Whether their sort of traditional quilts are your cup of tea or not, their devotion to teaching the art of quiltmaking, as well as their entrepreneurial bent, have made a significant mark on the quilting world. But the Marston & Moran exhibit absolutely stole my heart. Talk about feel-good creations that made me actually laugh aloud a few times! I see the direction of my next project.

The next stop was a local quilt shop where there was a Little Gracie frame set up, complete with Janome 1600. While I don't harbor much interest in getting a similar contraption, even if I had the room, Don found it intriguing.

Then it was on to Hancock's, a most unimpressive building just off I-24.

But, inside?

Whoo-ee! It was stunning.

Again, my sidekick was patient, though he kept running inside to borrow my cellphone, bring me a contraband soft drink, make suggestions to buy (duck-print flannel being his favorite ... uh ... no thanks). Several dollars later

I left, weary of foot and back but resolved to return this morning.

Back at Harrah's in Metropolis,

The view from our window .... Gotta love Mother Nature.

we tried our hands at blackjack and slots, planning the bigger house we would buy when we hit the jackpots ("You'll have a 30 x 30 quilt room."). The closest we came was when I'd pumped $52 into a "Triple Cherry" and ran it all the way down to one last dollar. I grimaced at him and slapped the spin button. The darn thing hit, paying 60-to-1! On the last buck I had left (for slots)! (Darn, just before I was down to the last dollar, I'd been making $3 bets. One spin earlier and it would have paid $180!) But we both laughed and knew it was a sign to STOP, just take the money and run. So 60 more dollars went into the Hancock's fund.

I knew I wouldn't get to do all that I wanted to do with my companion along, so there were no visits to Paducah's art district, no antiques shops, no sightseeing of any sort. But the experience of the museum and Hancock's was head-spinning enough to have made the trip a success.

We learned that once we get out of Nashville (no trivial pursuit), it's only a 2-hour drive on sparsely used I-24. I'm so lucky to live so close to two such inspiring resources, and now that Don knows where and how and what, he'll be happy to send me off by myself for a daytrip when the urge arises. Then I'll get to do the full Paducah experience.

It was a geezer trip--you never saw so many buses of senior citizens. We sat next to a fellow who ate his breakfast cereal from a stemmed glass and clanked it so much, scraping every last morsel out, until we thought we'd have to go kill him. [Note to self: Add plate/bowl/goblet scraping to list of irritating noises, like tuneless whistling, to avoid making after 60.] But you're right about another thing too, JenClaire: it was work to have all that fun when we were younger. Or at least it would be now. I love doing just what I want to do at my own pace. It was fun; I got inspired; and I bought stuff!

And I will go back.