Mutual Support, Within the Art Bridge

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The one thing that stands out about the art community in the early Art Bridge days was that it was incredibly non-competitive. Indeed, we supported each other, we helped each other and we promoted each other. Rick was into his big signature self promotion but he was as ready to support the rest of us just as quickly.

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Within a week or so after the Cat’s Hill ad incursion, I’d meet Rick at Carry Nation’s or Number One Broadway and he’d introduce me as his new best friend and as a great “up and coming” writer. All I could think of was that I should have never told him I wrote. I’d never had anything published so I wasn’t much of a writer. I was very uncomfortable being introduced as one. He was promoting something I wasn’t really doing. One thing I did that he didn’t appreciate much was my farm boy shoulder punching salutation: “Hey Rick, old Boy, how ya doin’?” Bap, a slam in the shoulder. “Nice day, eh?” Man, he didn’t like that at all. I always thought it was cause he didn’t have a lot of meat on his bones, and, too, he was a city boy. We made an agreement, I wouldn’t punch his shoulder and he wouldn’t call me a writer.

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One evening we got together and Rick slipped and one last time he bragged about what a great writer I was to become. As he had broken the bargain, I went to pop his shoulder. However, seeing it coming, he pulled his shoulder out of my swing and I ended up landing the slug on his shirt pocket. He let out an “Oh Shit!” I had just broken a brand new pair of Vuarnet sunglasses he’d only worn twice so far. He pulled the broken glasses out of his pocket and his face turned red as a beet but I watched him pull the anger back into his usually good natured facade. Everyone was having a great time chastising me but the Tharp remained very gracious saying mistakes happen, he should have left his shoulder where it belonged. I was sort of dumb struck. I have never ever worn a hat or sunglasses. This was a long standing, basic policy of mine, so I really didn’t appreciate the value of sunglasses and I’d certainly never pay into the hundreds of dollars for them.

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The mix of emotions on Rick’s face told me these were important things. All I could think to say was “Give them to me, I’ll fix them.” With this, everyone busted out in laughter. I was thoroughly embarrassed and at a loss. Rick told the guys to leave me alone and I insisted on repairing them. He handed them over noting that he couldn’t comprehend what could be done to repair them.