A BOLD BLUFF

It's been a mob scene around the house these days, ever since word leaked that I am the distinguished gentleman who purchased the two "Dogs Playing Poker" paintings for a whopping $590,000.*

I was trying to stay anonymous, of course.* But I found it was simply impossible to lug the paintings around without being noticed.*

I invested in the original Cassius Marcellus Coolidge paintings at an auction in New York last week because of my abiding appreciation for culture and the arts.* At the moment, the works have been installed in the "dog wing" of my home, occupying a wall opposite original prints of Weimaraners dressed as ballerinas and firefighters.*

Have I mentioned that I live in Prunedale?

For those of you who are not well-versed in fine art, the two paintings acquired at auction are called "A Bold Bluff" and "Waterloo: Two." They are among a series of work completed in 1903 by Coolidge, when the esteemed artist was absorbed in what art historians now consider his "dogs playing poker period."

The paintings I picked up* depict five dogs sitting around a poker table in a classic poker tableau. In "A Bold Bluff," the St. Bernard is holding an obviously inferior hand. A large pile of poker chips has been thrown into the pot and the other four dogs are staring down the St. Bernard, trying to penetrate his poker face. The ash on the St. Bernard's cigar is growing long.

For reasons left unexplained by the artist, the two of spades is lying, face up, on an empty chair between the St. Bernard and the Great Dane.

In "Waterloo: Two," we see the St. Bernard raking in the substantial pot. As a coup de grace, the St. Bernard has exposed his bluff, eliciting comic expressions of disgust from the other dogs seated around the table.

If nothing else, last week's auction brought attention to the unappreciated genius* of Cassius Coolidge (1844-1934). In addition to creating a classic series of dog art, Coolidge is also credited with creating the first life-size plywood cutouts one finds at high-end carnivals in which a person can poke their head through a hole to be photographed as a character or animal.

Coolidge even once wrote an opera about a mosquito plague in New Jersey.

America should no longer take a back seat in the world of high-brow culture.* We have our DaVinci.*

The Coolidge classics first came to my attention at the home of my late grandmother, who maintained a deep fascination for dogs playing poker throughout her life and who cultivated a discerning appreciation for dog art in her grandchildren.

In addition to her dogs-playing-poker collection, Grandma Sue kept a thick scrapbook filled with cute illustrations of dogs she clipped from magazines, including some classics created by Norman Rockwell himself.

Now that I have acquired the ultimate in dog art*, I believe it is time to turn my attention to more serious endeavors.*

At the moment, for instance, I am considering a series of Skelton's more important works depicting sad-faced clowns.*

* At the urging of Barry Bonds, noted media analyst with the San Francisco Giants, the Joe Livernois Column has provided asterisks in sections of this column that are obvious lies.