The Six-Hour Comic

From six hours of drawing and redrawing, and posting and re-posting, that “No!” — spoken by Eric — is my favorite bit of art. And the only salvageable piece from two other shots at drawing today’s comic.

It was an off day.

I really did get a couple of messages from Henrietta, who gave me permission to Read the rest of this entry »

Multiple Intelligences

I’m socially clumsy.

Small talk? Not my thing.

Talking about stuff — like sporting events, movies, news? I’m not that swift.

But if you want to talk about your inner life — your hopes, struggles and grief — that I can do.

I’m not a group person, either. Partly because of noise levels and the havoc they wreak on my hearing, partly because groups tend to kill intimacy and authenticity. Which leaves small talk and irony. Now, if pressed, I can do those. When I flip the switch, I can be quite charming. But I much prefer closeness, warmth and deep connection. Which, especially for a male, perhaps, can have its liabilities.

This is not how I asked to be. It’s just how I am.

You can take the multiple intelligences survey here.

Olympics SE

I’m the kind of guy who solves problems. For the Olympics and the doping scandals, I suggest the simultaneous running of a parallel games designed especially for the Scientifcally Enhanced athlete. To be eligible for Olympics SE, Read the rest of this entry »

Well THIS certainly feels, I don’t know, a little awkward?

My son Eric, soon to be 15 and already teeming with testosterone, sent this comic to the girl whom the comic references. She laughed. She posted it on her MySpace. She apparently felt proud.

This is a little weird for me.

In essence, it’s the comic that screams, “Hey, my dad noticed your figure!” Sounds kind of creepy. But maybe only because here in America, we flaunt sexuality (sit-coms in which everyone wants to get laid, talks about getting laid, fails to get laid; cover stories on women’s pubs at the supermarket checkout about fun new ways to have orgasms; come-hither posters in Victoria’s Secret that shout, “I’m ready: touch me, touch me now…” all the way across the mall; etc., etc., etc.), yet refuse to discuss it in any meaningful way (abstinence-only sex ed, “That’s dirty,” it’s all the boy’s fault, etc., etc., etc.).

Contradictions abound.

Of course, we know what my wife’s response would be.

This just in

“Um, hello.
I have been reading your comic for a while, and I believe that the addition of extra readage in your alt-text would be fancy and delicious…”

And so it shall be.