My hometown has fallen to the Dark Side.

I came home from college this afternoon to stay the evening with my family. On the way in, I stopped at the courthouse to renew my drivers license.

When I came out of the courthouse, I glanced at the row of shops across the street. I noticed a new one with a huge green-and-gold sign, but at that distance, all I could make out was “Gallery.”

“Neat!” I thought. “About time we had an art gallery in this town.” I go down the steps to the front parking lot to my car and then get a better look.

The sign reads “Gallery of Light.”

“Oh no,” I thought. “It can’t be what I’m thinking.”

It is.

Down below the huge sign, in the big store window is a smaller sign, reading, “Thomas Kinkade, Painter of Light.”

I thought about crossing the street and projectile-vomiting on the window, but I don’t want to put more effort into my puking than Thomas Kinkade does into his paintings. It just doesn’t seem right.

Whew, for a second there I thought that they’d erected a Wal*Mart…

My 82-year-old mom thinks that TK is the greatest artist ever conceived. Even though he makes me want to hurl, I buy his products at as gifts for her (calendars, etc.). Now I keep getting those “Here are some things we thought you’d like, pugluvr!” messages when I surf, followed by crappy TK artbooks and posters. I don’t even like the idea that a computer thinks I like Kinkade!

Well, you did warn us.

Stupid morbid curiosity.

Yech! When I lived in East TX, Thomas Kinkade hung in almost every house I visited. It kinda reminded me of when I was a kid growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, Hargrove was in almost every house I entered (including my own.)

I actually like his stuff.
I know, I know.