Today's Mail

The FedEx Man brought me early copies of Children At Play, courtesy of Andrews & McMeel Graphic Goddess Caty Neis. Ooh, I hope the jokes are good, 'cause I've forgotten most of them. Review to come.

The image below was scanned off the original painting for the cover. I kinda had in mind that it should look like a parody of the million or so Little Golden Books that floated around my house when I was a kid till all the pages fell out.

Tom's Greatest Dance

It's now Rankopediaed as the Best Comic Strip Ever. Here's why Tom the Dancing Bug so richly merits this vital yet meaningless distinction.

The Pool

This ran in the Post Magazine two years ago and I meant to post it during the week of pool strips (which were, of course, reruns). It's a portrait of every suburban pool I ever frequented, or even (briefly) worked at.

Today's Poor Almanack

This is the first one I've done in about a month. I might be a little out of practice.

Contingencies

While I wait for my memories of San Diego to return, here's a job I did for my friend Bono Mitchell, the Graphic Goddess. When watercolor works, it's the most satisfying medium there is (when it doesn't it's an invitation to homicide). For the ground I used one of my favorite mixes- Daniel Smith Quinacridone Burnt Orange and Grumbacher Terre Verte. The quinacridone is transparent and staining and the terre verte is opaque and sedimentary so you get lots of happy accidents while they fight it out on the paper.

As a bonus, here's a previous cover. To view the full series see this post.

My Big Fancy San Diego Comic Con Report

It was all a happy blur. It might've helped if I'd taken the time to wipe my glasses off, but that would probably have destroyed the mystery, and when you're confronted with 125.000 people, the majority of whom are dressed as Wonder Woman, mystery is what you cling to.

More to come as my memory clears.

Today's Lio

The great Mark Tatulli tells me that the second child from the left in the bottom panel is me, and I believe it because I drew cars all the time when I was a kid. The only detail that he might've gotten wrong is the name; I was called Dickie for a long time. But I'm pretty thankful he didn't use Dickie, 'cause I don't want that getting out in public, no thank you.

Today's Pearls Before Swine

Leaves me speechless with delight. especially as how I can sue for millions and retire in comfort. Thanks, Stephan!

Thank You

For all the enormously kind messages, comments & emails. I didn't mean to leave the preceding post up this long, and now I'm feeling all maudlin and insufferable, like I should be posing for a Parade Magazine cover on facing adversity. And who needs that? I won't bring all this up again unless I need a cheap excuse, like, "this cartoon would've been funnier but, ow, my Parkinson's."

I have to go to San Diego today for 5 days of sensory overload. If I can figure out how, I'll post something from there. We'll see. 

And I owe many of you emails, or worse, which are forthcoming. Meantime, if anybody's got any good jokes please leave them in the comments. 

Some News

When I started this blog two years ago with the kind urging of Mark Heath, I'd intended to pretty much stay out of it. Oh sure, I'd post work and whine about deadlines, and drivel on about pen nibs and other obsessions. But I wouldn't drag too much personal stuff into it, and I'd especially avoid photos of me (the post below and this one notwithstanding). 

That said, I'm going to bend my vague rule a bit, mostly because with this San Diego Funfest looming I feel obliged to go a little public. For the last year or so I've noticed a few odd symptoms; shakiness, hoarseness, silly walks, random clumsiness and the like. So the other day I went to see a neurologist and, after having me me jump through hoops, stand on my head and juggle chain saws, he said I've got Parkinson's. It's a pain in the fundament and it slows me down, but it hasn't really affected my drawing hand at all and it's treatable . And it could be a useful ploy in my ever-losing battle against deadlines.

That's my news and, as I said, I'm passing it along mostly because I'm gong to be more sociable in the next week. And if I drop the chain saw in the middle of a presentation I want you to know why.

San Diego Comic Con

I guess they're serious about this. Full schedule here. Who all's going?

Tom Spurgeon has 100 tips on how to withstand and even enjoy SDCC.

And on Saturday, there's this-

Old Historical Painting

This is an old illustration illustrating what I forget. It was done with ink, colored pencil and alkyd paint applied with a wad of the spongy foam rubber stuff they put under wall to wall carpeting, which was my favorite way of working, till I got sick of the smell of the Krylon spray that I'd use to force it to dry. Watercolor, that's the stuff.

Upcoming Mystery Panel of Doom

Jeez, I hope he's OK.

Fireworks

I have the feeling I've done this cartoon before. But I couldn't find it so I drew it again in hopes nobody would notice.

Talking Out Loud at the Library

Here's where I'll be next Monday, and please come join me. Besides me yammering, there'll be a bake sale, balloon rides, a Dewey Decimation Librarian Smackdown and the annual Reference Desk Scavenger Hunt (details sketchy). I've already asked both of you who said you'd be there (Hi, Anita!) to bring bulky items of clothing to strew around on the seats to make them look more populated, and if the rest of you could do the same I'd really appreciate it.

There'll be a book signing to follow, courtesy of Barnes & Noble. If you have a recently checked out item from the library you'd like signed or otherwise defaced, please present it then.

By Request

For Woodrowfan. Strangely enough, I'd just scanned this last week to send to the Funny Times, so posting it was easy.

Coming in September

Here's the cover of the next one, courtesy of the very patient Graphic Goddess Caty Neis of Andrews & McMeel. Four feet eleven more inches of this stuff and you'll have a five foot shelf of Cul de Sac to impress your less literate friends.

Yesterday's Poor Almanack

Another one of those. The scrapple joke is in honor of Mr. Allan Janus's digestive system.

Video Funtime with Stephan Pastis and John Glynn

Stephan Pastis, who draws a great comic strip called Pearls Before Swine, visited my syndicate in Kansas City a few months back to shoot a video promo. Which doesn't make much sense as his syndicate is in New York City. To watch him harass John Glynn, who runs my entire syndicate single-handedly with the help of 200 other people, please go here.

Watch for Bill Amend's stomach-churningly violent cameo.

Goodbye, Nickelodeon

Nickelodeon, the great kid's magazine put out to promote the network that also became a welcoming haven for cartoonists, is shutting down. I hope all the staff find good positions elsewhere quickly, especially Chris Duffy and Dave Roman, who art directed the comic section of Nick into such a treat for the eyeballs. Dang it all.

Old Almanac

Old yet ever green. Something about Kim Jong Il just gets those cartoon juices flowing, probably the mixture of malignancy and preposterousness. Though it's been pointed out that he's looking a little worn out these days and the old coiffure is on the decline.

Lio!

My sincere congratulations to Lio for winning the comic strip division Reuben, with some help from Mark Tatulli. Who now owes me ten bucks.
And congratulations to all the other winners, like Mr. Dave Coverly, who won the big shiny ugly statue. I can only hope he has an appropriately ugly sofa to complement his Reuben.

The Reuben Weekend, Day 2

While other, lazier, cartoonists are lolling around an imaginary city, I'm using my time to work on the cover of the second Cul de Sac collection, a chunk of which is shown above. This kind of work ethic is one of the many benefits of being an anhedonic stick-in-the-mud.

My profound thanks to Jennifer Hart, Arlington, for her kind and thoughtful good luck cartoon-by-mail. It cleared up my anhedonia nicely.

The Reuben Weekend

As you're no doubt aware, this weekend is the 63rd annual convention of the National Cartoonists Society, the highlight of which is the Reuben Awards on Saturday night. This year it's in Los Angeles, specifically in Hollywood, and, though I'm up for a comic strip division award, I'll be missing it this year because I know Los Angeles is imaginary. It's being held in the Los Angeles Renaissance Hotel, part of the Hollywood & Highland Center which is styled after the Babylon set from DW Griffiths' silent classic "Intolerance".

Yikes, what a spread, huh? The entire population of the middle tier is a squadron of dancing bellhops. Those of you with sharp eyes will note Stephan Pastis and Mark Tatulli on the upper balcony defacing a decorative elephant with tasteless cartoons, with John Glynn (in the hat) urging them on. It's all further proof that LA is imaginary.


Above is a photo of an actual Reuben Award, as designed by Rube Goldberg (it looks like it comes with a set of dinner plates, too). Originally it was to be a lamp, but it was converted into a trophy. Kind of a pity because it'd be a great lamp, especially if there was one on either side of a very ugly sofa. I'm not up for one of these, which is also a pity as I own a somewhat ugly sofa. The division awards come in plaque form, and I'm up against Mark Tatulli's Lio and Stephan Pastis' Pearls Before Swine. So really, I don't have a chance. But I do have a certificate.

My friend Mike Lynch, cartoonist extraordinaire and NCS national rep, sent me this. And you'll notice that the space provided for the division has been left blank, which leaves me free to invent my own. I'm thinking "Neatness" or "Choreography". To enter the comic strip divisional award, you're required to submit a dozen samples. Below are a few of the strips I sent. 

Though I'm missing the actual event, I intend to cover it extensively and to that end I'll be live blogging it, with constant updates here and on my Twitter feed (which I've barely touched otherwise). And on Facebook, too. I think I can bring a fresh and dispassionate perspective to this Reubens thing from 2,000 miles away.

Drill

Here's an exclusive first look at an upcoming Sunday strip, featuring a first-ever look at the back of Blisshaven Preschool. Please note the fully-appointed toy shed, as well as the blacktop, which is likely so covered in chalk that the original asphalt doesn't show through. Also visible is the entire student body attempting to escape, who knows why?

Pop Pop Synchronicity

I'm pleased and proud that today's Cul de Sac is in pop pop lawnmower synchronicity with today's The Doozies, which is drawn by the redoubtable Tom Gammill. Such cosmic coincidences just confirm my faith in the million monkey approach to writing Shakespeare.

I don't think I had a pop pop lawnmower when I was a kid, but my brother did. Sensibly enough, he called it a bop bop wubong.

Mother's Day Special

Above is an Almanac from 9 or 10 years ago, and below is the one from yesterday. I don't want to point fingers, but it looks like somebody's cartoon skills are going a wee bit downhill.

A Very Happy Cartoonist Day

You may be wondering, "How can I best celebrate this festive day?" You might consider:

• Finding a cartoonist near you and mowing his lawn, at least the front lawn (especially the hard part with the hill).
• While you're at it trim his shrubs, so the mailman can find his front door again.
• Does his house need vacuuming? Well, what are you waiting for?
• Who left all these dishes in the sink?
• The cats; somebody feed the cats.
• You could take him to lunch at the Mexican place down the street, where they're having some no doubt cartoonist-related celebration.
• For God's sake laugh at his cartoons. If they appear in a newspaper, buy extra copies (or multiple subscriptions, even) and laugh at them too. 
  

Note: if the cartoonist near you is a lady, please substitute "her" for "his". The original of the cartoon reproduced above is in the collection of the fabulous Mr. Jef Mallett, so this is a scan of the Almanac book page. And it's the same one I ran last year, if it looks familiar.

For Free Comic Book Day: Today's Poor Almanack, Plus Some Old Ones

Here's today's Poor Almanack. those below are from the last few years.

The Mangaloid Wars one still cracks me up. The rest less so.

Three Easy Steps to a Sunday Cartoon

Last Sunday's Cul de Sac made me happy, mostly because it started out as a kinda lame idea but ended up being pretty good. And , look, the colors came out pretty!
Above is the first sketch, where I had a vague idea involving Alice barging into Petey's room and annoying him with chatter. It was boring, so I gave her a puppet, which helped, but it didn't come alive until Beni joined her.
When in doubt for a big finish, introduce Dill. But I didn't know what he'd say until the very last minute. Above is the rough I sent my editor; you can see that I added the final comment outside the box. Then I moved it over to Dill's balloon, et voila.

Shakespeare's Birthday, Again

Today is Shakespeare's birthday, or maybe not, nobody knows for sure! Like nobody's sure if he wrote all that stuff, or looked like those pictures of him, or if he was really Sir Francis Bacon. Please post your competing and unfounded theories in the comments section.

Take a Poet to Lunch, Again

It's National Poetry Month, so here's something old and poetic.

Today's Poor Almanack

I've been wanting to do a cartoon about the Twitterverse ever since I heard the word, and figured it'd be something like the Blogosphere cartoon I did a year and a half ago. The plan was to end the cartoon with a link to a Twitter site that would, once you got there, provide the ultimate punchline. Well, that part didn't work, and I was so far behind when I got to drawing the final cartoon that I left out half the jokes I thought up (and they were classics, each and every one). And the cartoon goes off on a weird, pointless tangent about Twitterature, a word I made up after 120,000 people had already thought of it. A better cartoonist would've done a Twitterized version of Absalom, Absalom, but I've never read it and I'm lazy.

But what I'm left with is a stupid Twitter account with no ultimate punchline on it. Twitter seems to perfectly fit Dorothy Parker's implied definition of a fresh hell, but I figure let's keep our hells nice and fresh, so I'll try it until the banality and tedium of what I tweet becomes too starkly apparent. I read somewhere years ago that birdsong is really just a way for the bird to say, "bird here!" and all the music is just lagniappe, which can be extrapolated in humans to "Mozart here!" or "Leadbelly here!" or "Britney Spears here!" This doesn't have much to do with Twitter, but it is a little depressing.