A Lack of Arts Appreciation

So I have the afternoon off, stuff to do tonight. I go down to the NMNH early to cash in my weekly IMAX comp and Into the Deep is closing soon, so I want to catch it. Noon is not the time to be at that museum, folks. Too many kids, how could I forget....too much time at the genteel Freer for me, and the otherwise somnambulistic shift at the Postal Museum. (ATT Bethany and friend, please take a week off at least, from the surveying...) So IMAX, the usual, kids can't abandon their cell phones or taking pictures of themselves, or kick my chair back, or talk, whine, try to grab the 3D images. Mercifully the film is only 35 minutes. I couldn't imagine sitting through Harry Potter under any circumstances, but there? Forgettaboudit.
So I trundle over to the National Gallery (after hiding my precious credentials-not a Smithsonian venue) for the just opened DADA Exhibit. Crowded of course, cool progression of the infamous post-war movement from separatist Zurich to war-torn Berlin to Cologne to New York and back to Paris. The names are all familiar: Max Ernst, Man Ray,Georg Grosz, Marcel DuChamp (Rrose Selavy-his cross-dressing alter-ego). The biggest laugh is the entrance into Paris which has Duchamp's Fountain, a urinal mounted 8 feet high in a door jamb as originally displayed in his studio. Having in the entrance, obscuring the P in Paris becons one to climb a ladder, or attempt an impossible feat of urination upon entering. The films were a bit more mixed media, with combined human elements with Fischinger-style objects. All silent except for the little kids running around totally unsupervised. Just something else you have to endure in pursuit of personal enrichment.