Modest Goddess

So my father is an artist and he's incredibly talented. He's 72, and he's decided he'd like to get his stuff in a gallery. How is a guy who didn't go to some pretentious art school and doesn't hang out with other pretentious art types, who's just following his own inner voice on what to paint, get recognition?

These are two of his works. Isn't he good? Isn't he? Don't you want to give him his own show?

He hired a photographer named Jamie from the Upper East Side to come down to his house in Queens and shoot the best of the stuff that he's been madly producing in his basement. But she called this morning and said her equipment wasn't working. She tried to reschedule, but my father was too annoyed.

Me: You didn't let her reschedule?
Dad: I was too annoyed. I was up last night getting the room all ready.
Me: Wow, it must look great down there.
Dad: Nah, it still looks like a basement.
Me: Call her back and tell her to come tomorrow, while everything's still ready.
Dad: What if I get the machine?
Me: Just leave her a message. Tell her you want her to come tomorrow, and that you want her to call you back so you can discuss the details.
Dad: These words, they just flow out of your mouth.
Me: I'm very glib.