The Bright Future of American Art

In 2025, few care anymore that David Lynch didn't hate Donald Trump enough.

Here’s the spontaneous tribute to the late ultra-American (yet aesthetically European) director David Lynch that has emerged at the Bob’s Big Boy on Riverside Drive in Burbank, CA, where he’d have lunch everyday at 2:30 PM: one of Bob’s super-thick chocolate milkshakes and a cup of coffee. (Lynch was a caffeine aficionado as you could guess from Twin Peaks and the tributes from fans.)

It took me a long time to appreciate David Lynch, but that’s to my discredit, not his. Obviously, he was a great artist, merging European surrealism with American hyper-normality.

Lynch’s Bob’s was my favorite restaurant when I was a little boy in the 1960s because it seemed so futuristic.

I was totally into The Future after visiting the World’s Fair in New York in 1965. I can recall thinking at age seven that “1966” with its cool repeating sixes looked much more futuristic than old-fashioned “1965” and that my friend’s little sister was lucky to be born three more years into the future than I was.