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Editor's ncte: This article contains cpinfor.3 of
the cull; an
The word patriotism used to piss me off. Being a
child of the GOs (although a young and precocious
one at that), the term seemed to represent the
"pigs," the politicians, the rednecks, the John Birch
Society, the KKK, S. I. Hayakawa, and any other
"rightist" factions. And, in fact, some of these groups
worked under the banner of "patriotism" for either
self-serving, biased, bigoted, or downright oppresive
reasons.
Getting off my high horse though, I stepped into a
big pile of rhetoric from the "left" stating that their
way is the absolute right way, sometimes under the
banner of patriotism also. The battle lines were
drawn easily 1 5 years ago. It was the "love it or leave
it" bumper stickers on the Buick 88s to the "Love it
or change it" stickers on th VW vans. A simplistic
stereotype to be sure but one that at least sets the
stage for the rest of this rambling. One thing for sure
between these two sides was they loved this big
country.
It seems appropriate on this eve of the Fourth of
July to celebrate the work of the great American
landscape photographer Ansel Adams. IH lay even
money that if you take a redneck and a rainbow
child and drop them into Yosemite park, you'll get
very much the same reaction...awe. And love. And
then some more awe. It was this kind of beauty that
Ansel Adams explored for 82 years until he died of
heart failure on April 22, in Carmel, Calif. At the
time he was working on his backload of thousands
of unprinted negatives and reprinting and improv
ing his favorite shots from the past.
As a tribute to Adams, the Sheldon Memorial Art
Gallery is exhibiting a selection of his photographs,
now through the month of August, drawn entirely
from the Sheldon's permanent collection.
Adams was recognized internationally as a pre
mier photographer and master printmaker. Having
combined total mastery of technique and photo
graphic seeing with subject matter universal in its
appeal, he created a body of work of special impor
ance to the history of 20th century photography.
Many of his best known photographs were made in
Yosemite National Park. They consisted of breath
taking landscapes and majestic vistas. Adams also
worked through his workshops and publications. He
What docs it take to create a Moomlsc?
1 f 1 m
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"Moourise," Hernsikdez, New Mexico, 1C41, part of Sheldon Art Gallery's permanent collection of
Ansel Adams p'&ctcrjphy.
was fully committed to passing on his incomparable
knowledge and understanding of photography to
younger artists.
Adams was truly a renaissance man. Besides his
many artistic endeavors, he devoted considerable
time and energy to environmental concerns. He was
a champion of wilderness ideals and often testified
before Congress in behalf of preserving and protect
ing the landscape of the West.
Volumes upon volumes have been written about
Adams, but if a picture is worth a thousand words,
" it's doubtful that historians will ever catch up to
him.
Ansel Adams called photography "the art of
miraculous instants." He has said he feels landscape
photography is the most difficult form of photo
graphy, because of the inability to mainipulate the
subject matter, as in portrait or still photography.
He has said "a photographer must carry his trained
sensitivity around with him like a loaded and
cocked gun...abo sometimes have the patience to
stalk." .
Adams stalked out literally thousands of "miracu
lous moments" in his life celebrating the wonder of
nature in the American outdoors. His work bridges,
no, circumvents, moral and political differences.
After all, it's the country itself that we really love, not
the Republican or Democratic parties. Look at one
of Adam's sunsets one time and you wont think of
yourself as an elephant or a donkey. Just a human
being with the beautiful frozen moment of a miracu
lous instant.
Celeste
OMCS
maris jol
In last week 's episode, Har Ley David
son broke down and got himself a job.
In the meantime, Otis P. Davenport
continued his successful marketing of
'Perky Lite, ' the drink that picks you
up and slows you down. Where, you
may ask,. was Celeste when all of this
was going oaf
Mary Louise
Cnapp
Celeste walked into the sheriffs office
of Podunk, Neb., a pistol by her side
and a determined gleam in her eye.
"Jesse thinks he's so smart," she
muttered. "Ill show him. "It ought to be
a cinch to get these prisoners out of
jail. How many of them are there,
Antoinette?"
Antoinette Chateaubriand, who vas
dressed, like Celeste, in Levi's, leather
boots, a flannel shirt and a Stetson,
could only think of the miserable heat.
"Celeste, I want to free these poor
souls just as much as you do. But do I
have to look like a bum while I'm doing
it? Besides, I'm sweltering in this outfit!"
Celeste marched grimly on.
"It's the American way," she said,
pausing to pick a hayseed from her
front teeth. "America's standing tall
now, and we've got to stand tall with
her. As future president of this land, I
pledge myself to release these victims
of Communist oppression, even if I lose
my life."
"Your life!" Antoinette screamed.
"Celeste, you didn't tell me we might be
in danger! I'm not going to die looking
like this, I can tell you! Addison would
never forgive us!"
The office door opened and the she
riff appeared. '
"What do you want?" he said, squint-
Pago6 .
ing'with dust-reddened eyes.
"I'm Celste Underwood, presidential
candidate, and this i3 my running
mate, Antoinette Chateaubriand," Cel
este said. The sheriff eased his consid
erable bulk into the chair behind his
desk and grunted.
"Yeah, I remember," he said. "You're
those two crazy dames that want to
repaint the White House. We don't
stand for any of that commie stuff here
in Podunk, I can tell you. Why don't you
women stay home where you belong?"
"We have come to talk to you about
those unfortunate people in jail here,"
Antoinette said. "We have reason to
believe that they have been unjustly
accused and are being held here as
political prisoners."
The sheriff laughed explosively, ex
pelling a plug of tobacco.
"Ha, ha," he said. "You're not talking
about that bunch of drunks in there,
are you? The ones that we picked up
on a raid Saturday night?"
"If you mean those poor souls you
stopped on the highway and brought
in here, yes," Celeste said. "We demand
their release in the name of all that is
fine and decent in America."
"Hell, woman, they ain't fit to go
nowhere!" the sheriff said. "Their own
families won't even claim 'em. No, here
they are and here they stay till they get
good and sober. Now, why don't you
ladies run along to the PTA or some
thing. I got work to do."
"But, sheriff, don't you see that they're
more trouble to you here than on the
street?" Celeste asked. "You have to
feed them, clean up after them, and
listen to their noise. Pius, the taxpay
ers are putting cut good money to
support them. Why not let them go?
You'll save money, there will be peace
and quiet in your jail, and you'll never
be open to the charge of coddlin.g erim-
ctcson in
Podunk
inals. 1 know one thing the people of
Podunk hate worse than a Commu
nist, and that's criminal coddler. You
wouldn't want that kind of name, would
you?"
The sheriff listened attentively.
"Well, maybe you're right," he said.
"But I don't want to be the one respon
sible, you see? So, 111 just slip you the
key kind of quiet-like, and make out
like I've been asleep, and you all just
put the old key back in my drawer
when you're done, and nobodyTl be the
wiser."
"You're a good man, Sheriff," Celeste
said, slipping a bottle of Jack Daniels
into his hand.
,"Gee, thanks," he said. "Now, re
member, if there's anything the Podunk
Police Department can do for you..."
"Good Lord, Celeste, there's 30 of
them here!" Antoinette whispered as
the two stole around to the side of the
jail "Move over, Jesse Jackson!"
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Daily Nehrcskan -
Tuesday, July 3, 1984
