The historic election of Barack Obama, the nation’s first African-American president, hasn’t only inspired hope in the American people, but also a return to creating iconic representations of the President. Now our generation has works of art that we could be proud to display in their house. Now we too, understand why old people hung paintings of JFK in the living room.
You could choose something classy, like the now iconic Shepard Fairy painting of Obama, “Hope,” which has been acquired by and is now displayed at the Smithsonian.
Or you could go with a classic choice—a decorative plate. And folks, the Barack Obama Commemorative Victory Plate does not skimp. It is made of fine porcelain, has 22K gold trim, and features the American flag and fireworks. The rush job on this thing is forever commemorated by listing Obama’s electoral votes before they were officially determined. (The plate says 349, he won 365.) Then they really sweeten the pot by throwing in a US Mint Presidential Dollar with George Washington on one side and Barack Obama on the other.
Another classic choice is a velvet painting. Velvet paintings are the most versatile artworks, because you can hang them in places like Mexican restaurants and bathrooms, and they’ll still look elegant.
Then there’s this choice, and it’s something that will truly scar any vistor stepping foot into your home—a painting of a nude Obama riding a unicorn. At first I thought this was some sort of viral internet joke, you know, like that dancing/dramatic/falling through a trampoline/burrito-eating chipmunk. But no, it’s a real painting done by a real artist. The artist, Dan Lacey, recognizing a cash cow, has since painted several more Obama paintings in this nude-unicorn vein.
You’ll have to google for yourself to see the painting of Obama symbolically leaping off the unicorn onto the grizzly bear that is Wall Street. After seeing it, I won’t sleep tonight, that’s for sure.
Now just two days ago, there was this little thing that happened called the inauguration. January 20th, 2009, a day that millions of novelty Bush Last Day Countdown Clocks went off in unison. It was the day that Dick Cheney was in a wheelchair, having strained his back from stacking corpses in the basement. It was the day, the glorious day, when the Bushes finally left town. And it was the day when 2 million people, and 593395352508835 button sellers descended onto Washington DC.
I live in Baltimore, but I had the opportunity to host friends from Ohio who wanted to witness the inauguration in person. We’ll call them the Crazy People. They endured driving overnight, waking at ungodly hours, standing in flesh-freezing temperatures, and hanging out in crush-level crowds. But perhaps the most testing of all, they endured showering at my place.
The house I live in with my roommates was built in 1920, and has a clawfoot bathtub that is an original piece. The design of the bathroom is meant for taking baths. There aren’t even tiles, fans, or waterproof anythings in the bathroom. The shower part is makeshift, and the shower curtain is more like a plastic cocoon. And I forgot to tell them the hot water lasts about a minute. As one of the Crazy People described it, “it was the 2nd worst showering experience of my life, only after one in El Salvadore.” Hey, I was encouraged we beat El Salvadore.
But the Crazy People do have great taste in souvenirs, and when I saw these prized possessions, I knew they were worthy of THE SURFING PIZZA:
It makes it even better to know that my friend bought this for her mom. She brought her mom a lil somethin somethin back! I love this. I love it with all of my heart. Usually when you see these “all I got was this t-shirt” shirts, the tone is a bit sarcastic, as in, all I got was a lousy t-shirt. But the tone here is like, knowing.
This friend has great taste in crap, because she also found this jewel, which she picked up for a male co-worker:
My Gorgeous President!
Of all the “gorgeous” photographs of Obama, this button chose a photograph that looks like a high school yearbook picture. He’s about 13 here. Adding to the yearbook-ness of it, the name is written as Obama, Barack H. I don’t know what this is about. I’d just like to see the person who made it. I want to shake their hand. No, I want to hug them. Actually, I don’t want to touch any DC street vendors. Unless they’re selling hot dogs. People, you ain’t lived until you had a streetcart hot dog in Washington DC. It’s a gorgeous hot dog.