Assorted random miscellany of the tangential sort and otherwise
Saturday, November 22, 2008
While Sarah slaughters syntax, man slaughters turkey
Why do so few of her sentences have subjects? Just wonderin' about that. Tryin' to figure it out, gosh darn ya. And lookin' at the guy behind her. The one who can hardly do his slaughterin' job 'cause he's so darn distracted by Sarah. Bet he's thinkin', "Oh, just doin' her subjectless sentence thing."
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Another thrilling account of my adventures in the natural world
What a great day Sunday was. And by "great" I mean, of course, practically windless. Just the slightest breeze and sunny skies. Mild temperature. The kind of day that can make a person do things they might ordinarily avoid. Like raking leaves.
So it was that in the late afternoon I ventured forth with rake and bags to relieve the yard of the stress of thousands of pin oak, maple and sycamore leaves which had the audacity to flounce about atop the weeds and grasses (more of the former than the latter) which I like to think of as my front lawn. In the Rockwood area where I reside there are lots and lots of trees. The developers in 1961 had the foresight to plant oaks in every yard. Today we reap the benefits in the form of shade, tranquility, steady home values and of course, leaves.
For the most part I really don't mind raking leaves. I've tried the leaf blowers and the mulching mower route, they have their place but there's a sort of solace to be taken from the calm movement of rake across grass. And God knows I've got the time. The layoff saw to that.
Neighbors strolled by, some stopping for brief chats. A squirrel or two chattered on some of the lower branches, mocking Ollie who was constrained by the backyard gate and reduced to a few taunting barks which seemed to delight the squirrels even more.I filled six 55-gallon bags with leaves and was almost through just as the sun had moved below the tops of trees and houses when I heard the throaty calls of Canadian geese in the distance. I looked up just in time to see a beautiful v-formation of them, maybe 15 or 20. The striking thing about them was that their chests seemed to be blazing as the red-orange of the sunset reflected off their white breast feathers.
I realized that I had just been shown the reason that all those leaves fell. It was so people would rake them, look up at the darkening blue of that Sunday's early evening sky and be regaled by a sunset's reflection off the chests of Canadian geese. There's a reason for everything.
So it was that in the late afternoon I ventured forth with rake and bags to relieve the yard of the stress of thousands of pin oak, maple and sycamore leaves which had the audacity to flounce about atop the weeds and grasses (more of the former than the latter) which I like to think of as my front lawn. In the Rockwood area where I reside there are lots and lots of trees. The developers in 1961 had the foresight to plant oaks in every yard. Today we reap the benefits in the form of shade, tranquility, steady home values and of course, leaves.
For the most part I really don't mind raking leaves. I've tried the leaf blowers and the mulching mower route, they have their place but there's a sort of solace to be taken from the calm movement of rake across grass. And God knows I've got the time. The layoff saw to that.
Neighbors strolled by, some stopping for brief chats. A squirrel or two chattered on some of the lower branches, mocking Ollie who was constrained by the backyard gate and reduced to a few taunting barks which seemed to delight the squirrels even more.I filled six 55-gallon bags with leaves and was almost through just as the sun had moved below the tops of trees and houses when I heard the throaty calls of Canadian geese in the distance. I looked up just in time to see a beautiful v-formation of them, maybe 15 or 20. The striking thing about them was that their chests seemed to be blazing as the red-orange of the sunset reflected off their white breast feathers.
I realized that I had just been shown the reason that all those leaves fell. It was so people would rake them, look up at the darkening blue of that Sunday's early evening sky and be regaled by a sunset's reflection off the chests of Canadian geese. There's a reason for everything.
Friday, November 14, 2008
When I'm not studying Eckhart Tolle, here's what I'm doing
A couple of people have asked me lately what I'm up to. (Obviously NOT updating this blog like I should be.)
Wichita Magazine has done some extensive interviewing of yours truly for an upcoming profile. I'm not sure how in the world they'll make me interesting enough to warrant any copy but if Drew Bratcher can't do it, no one can. He's the new editor, fresh from several years as a writer on the well-respected Washingtonian Magazine. I've read some of his pieces for them and am thoroughly impressed. But he's got his work cut out for him on that Crowson story. I'll be launching a new monthly cartoon series for them if all goes according to plan as well, which I'm excited about. All I can say right now is that it involves everyone's favorite rodent hereabouts, the prairie dog.
There is a chance that I'll be working more regularly with KMUW in an as-yet-to-be-defined capacity but probably not including goofy banjo tunes.
One thing I'm very psyched about is the possibility of working in the Wichita schools through the Arts Partners program. As one of their roster of artists I would be doing workshops and presentations for varying age groups on editorial cartooning, the joy of drawing, banjo picking and quantum chromodynamics. Ok, just kidding about the quantum whatever. I've always enjoyed speaking to and working with kids through my frequent ventures as Eagle cartoonist into classrooms.
I'll be appearing at Johnston's Clothiers on Saturday, November 22, from 11 until 2. They've booked me to hang around the store and draw caricatures of hapless customers. I've never done anything like that before so it should be a fun challenge.
On the evenings of November 20, 21 and 22 I'll be accompanying the Newton Chorale in concert for some Stephen Foster tunes, another exciting first. I'm looking forward to blending the banjo with some seriously accomplished vocalists.
I'm also booked for several evenings of Christmas shows as a fill-in out at the original Prairie Rose Chuckwagon, where I'll be replacing one of their musicians who'll be out of town.
My wife Karen, Phil Burress an whoever else shows up will be performing at Watermark Books Cafe this Saturday. Yikes. That's tomorrow. We play from 5 until 7 and it's free.
So those are some of the ways I'm filling my time these days. Plus most mornings I'm appearing on the streets of my neighborhood walking Ollie. Now that's a good gig!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Miracles and friends
Sooner or later we are bound to have some cold and rainy weather but so far how can you not be invigorated by these sunny, mild and leafy Autumn days? Ollie and I had another splendid time on our walk a few hours ago. We both spent a good deal of it gazing up at the trees. Ollie was meditating on the likelihood of cats and squirrels becoming immobilized by the sheer force of his awesome dog brainwaves, tumbling earthward into his widely gaping jaws. Apparently his brainwaves were not quiet up to the job as no small furry entities fell from the trees this morning.
What did fall, of course, were leaves. That's what got me looking towards the limbs above us. I think it's a small miracle every time I happen to witness a leaf falling. Really, if you think about it, that leaf has been budding, growing and waving from that branch for six months. What are the odds that out of the 259,200 minutes that comprise a leaf's life, I would be looking at the very minute it turns loose from it's hold on that little limb and spirals to the ground?
When they fall in great bunches it can be harder to surround a leaf's floating journey with the stillness required to appreciate the significance of the event. But when just one drifts down the miracle is easier to recognize.
I was in the mood for such small affirmations on this Monday morning in particular as it was a sad weekend. Our family bid adieu to some very close friends, Randy, Karla, Connor and Anna Scholfield, who left for Colorado on Saturday. While we know that in these times more than ever it's easy to stay in touch with others over long distances, saying farewell is still hard. The friends you make when your and their children are small, can be as close as family and even closer if you're like us and your family is several states away.
So walking by their empty house was an eye-reddening moment. Ollie sniffed at their fence for his dog friends, Mugs and Baxter, left his usual calling card and we went on into the morning. I soon found diversion in the aforementioned leaf spectacle and Ollie tried to mentally-telepath a noisy squirrel to the ground. We love our morning walk and our old friends.
What did fall, of course, were leaves. That's what got me looking towards the limbs above us. I think it's a small miracle every time I happen to witness a leaf falling. Really, if you think about it, that leaf has been budding, growing and waving from that branch for six months. What are the odds that out of the 259,200 minutes that comprise a leaf's life, I would be looking at the very minute it turns loose from it's hold on that little limb and spirals to the ground?
When they fall in great bunches it can be harder to surround a leaf's floating journey with the stillness required to appreciate the significance of the event. But when just one drifts down the miracle is easier to recognize.
I was in the mood for such small affirmations on this Monday morning in particular as it was a sad weekend. Our family bid adieu to some very close friends, Randy, Karla, Connor and Anna Scholfield, who left for Colorado on Saturday. While we know that in these times more than ever it's easy to stay in touch with others over long distances, saying farewell is still hard. The friends you make when your and their children are small, can be as close as family and even closer if you're like us and your family is several states away.
So walking by their empty house was an eye-reddening moment. Ollie sniffed at their fence for his dog friends, Mugs and Baxter, left his usual calling card and we went on into the morning. I soon found diversion in the aforementioned leaf spectacle and Ollie tried to mentally-telepath a noisy squirrel to the ground. We love our morning walk and our old friends.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
They don't make 'em like this anymore
Wow. I just love those "shaver" grills on those 1954 Buicks. This Roadmaster is up for bid on Ebay right now. I know I should be paying attention to John McCain on Saturday Night Live right this very minute. He just did his opening skit and all America was watching and I'm an (unemployed) editorial cartoonist and there's no reason on God's green earth why I shouldn't be watching it in order to keep up with all the latest political crap but you've gotta see this Buick.
http://cgi.ebay.com/ebaymotors/Buick-Roadmaster-1954-Buick-Roadmaster-Riviera-Runs-Great-Good-Chrome_W0QQitemZ290270847393QQcmdZViewItem?hash=item290270847393&_trkparms=72%3A727%7C39%3A1%7C65%3A12%7C240%3A1318&_trksid=p4506.c0.m245#ht_6766wt_0
The perfect color scheme as well. Man. My friend, Tim came over tonight and mentioned it as something I'd most likely salivate over. He was right. I'm voting for that 1954 Buick Roadmaster for president. We don't need a Maverick. We need a Roadmaster.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Morning window post
It was a truly splendid morning for a walk. No wind. That's all I ask most of the time, here in Kansas. Just give us a morning without wind.
Ollie treed a young -- just past kittenhood -- cat and got himself thoroughly revved in the process. Nothing makes his day like a close encounter with a member of the feline class. God knows, if he ever caught one it would probably kill him. God knows but Ollie doesn't. So he keeps trying. The cat business took place early in the walk so he was chocked full of Airedale energy all the rest of the way.
We took one of our normal routes, winding around 7 or 8 blocks, dodging cars driven by folks off to work (work! I remember work!) and counting political yard signs. Looks good for Obama in my neighborhood. One of the things I always do is check out the (non-political) window signs at this one corner house. An older lady resides there and I believe I heard that she was a retired elementary school teacher. She obviously misses the days of having a roomful of little ones to instruct. Now she puts these little signs in her windows, I'm betting they were once put up daily in her classroom, which are riddles aimed at the younger set. Usually she puts the question on one window and the answer in the next. Today's: How do you fix a broken pumpkin? With a PUMPKIN PATCH!
The first few times I noticed these riddles I was slightly taken aback. What the heck is this? Why would anyone do a weird thing like that? Must be a little "titched in the head!" But with time I've come to appreciate them, look forward to them and enjoy them. It's an unusual idea, to entertain passersby, and there's something sweet about it. Probably no more than 8 or 10 folks a day even see the little notices, maybe less. Still she posts them regularly all through the year. It's not really so different from putting up posts in a blog -- a small audience but somehow fulfilling all the same. If I could draw large enough I'd consider posting the occasional editorial cartoon in my window.
Eventually Ollie and I ended up back at our grove of cottonwoods where I like to sit a bit and practice not thinking. Not thinking is harder than you might, well, think it is. We all think all of the time, practically, and most of our thoughts are repetitious and unnecessary. I buy into the view that I'd be better off if I could relax my mind enough to get in touch with my true self, the one that's connected to things like cottonwoods, cats and elderly retired schoolteachers. Ollie's already there but I have a ways to go. Most of the time my true self is treed by my incessantly barking ego.
Then again, there are worse places to be cornered than up in a tree.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
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