Bubba vs. the Terracotta Army

The High Museum of Art currently has two unique displays until April 2009: the Louvre and China’s Terracotta Army. Last weekend I got dragged to both by The Wife.

An entire Saturday – a football Saturday no less – spent drifting through a stuffy museum. There would be no action, no bone-crushing tackles, nothing but a bunch of really old stuff. Boy, was I ever wrong!

In the center of the ring stood six of the Terracotta Army ordered by and then made for the China’s great emperor, Qin Shihuangdi himself.

Over 2,000 years old, the 7,000 life-sized terracotta statues, along with a bunch of other old stuff, were found 30 years ago by a farmer digging a new well. He unearthed a clay head; then the government came in and found the tomb of the first emperor.

Isn’t it just like government? Once you get ahead, they come in and take everything away from you. No joke! That’s what happened.

The guide at the museum said that the tomb — an archeological find of a lifetime — is about the size of Manhattan. He never said what happened to the poor farmer who originally found it.

The trouble at the High started during the Louvre exhibit while The Wife and I were enjoying the audio tour. The self-guided tour costs another $5 each but is well worth the price because it explains all the many masterpieces associated with the Louvre.

Without it, I would’ve been a lost ball in high cotton. And I wouldn’t have learned about the life-sized lion made out of a single cast of bronze.

Made by some French guy about 300 years ago, the giant bronze sculpture is considered to be a priceless masterpiece. That’s why the High has it roped off and guards standing all around. They’re supposed to prevent anyone from reaching across the ropes and tapping a fist on the side of the lion just to see if it was real.

I used the words “supposed to” on purpose here. And no, it wasn’t me who did it. It was Bubba.

Bubba wore a t-shirt minus the sleeves. It was 40 degrees that day, but that didn’t seem to bother Bubba. As he passed, I understood why – Bubba had been drinking and it wasn’t even noon yet.

I watched for a while as he wandered around the Louvre exhibit with his wife and two kids. The expression on his face was one of sheer boredom. I think he wouldn’t have been so bored if he’d paid for the audio tour.

Suddenly, Bubba stopped in front of the Antoine-Louis Barye (that’s the French guy) bronze lion sculpture. Without hesitation, he reached across the ropes and tapped a dirty fist on the side of the masterpiece. A deep BONG reverberated through the exhibit hall. I kid you not! This actually happened.

This set off a flurry of activity — a slap upside the head, a yank on his arm and then a sharp elbow in the ribs — and all of this just from his wife. Bubba was stumbling when his wife dragged him out the door. Don’t ask me what the guards were doing; I think they were frozen in disbelief.

The Wife and I took a break from the action at the High to have some lunch on the square at Table 1280, a restaurant that touts itself as a Tapas Lounge. It was a fine restaurant that came with a fine price, but it was well worth it – even though I still don’t know what the heck Tapas is.

After lunch, it was back to the High for a tour of the Terracotta Army, and round two with the sleeveless wonder named Bubba.

The exhibit was amazing: six life-sized terracotta sculptures of men make up the army on display at the High, and is completed by horses, chariots, and weapons.

When the emperor was buried, he had 7,000 of the clay warriors placed in his tomb so they could protect him in the afterlife. Who knew that they would be defending their emperor against the most feared opponent of all — the sleeveless Bubba?

When Bubba passed the unarmored general, one of six on display, he made the mistake of reaching across the ropes to tap a dirty fist on the clay warrior’s head.

The Wife and I made a quick exit for the stairs. Because of the upheaval, I figured that either the burly security guards took good old Bubba out, his wife did, or the terracotta army rose up and stomped a mud hole in him.

Either case, I didn’t want to stick around to see the carnage. Besides, if something’s been around for over 2,000 years, you really need to leave it alone.

Unless you want to end up like that poor old farmer. Since he found the general’s head, he’s never been heard from again. Wonder if the head-tapping Bubba will meet the same fate. One can only hope.