Ya darn tootin'

Modern Marvels

I'm always impressed how they get so much toothpaste into that last inch. One of science's great achievements!

At first I was feeling charitable and decided to give this guy a pass for showing such bad form and showing up in Beijing wearing the official "your country is foul and toxic" symbol on his face. We all know how we Americans love our fear!

But then this one comes along and it's time to blog.





This lady from the American team that is not going to win the gold medal and get freaky in the sand, plays beach volleyball. Because its beach volleyball, the ball and everything else gets sandy, there are attendants around the court bearing towels for the players to wipe off when necessary. This particular young lady has no manners and never once acknowledged the people who gave her the towels. There is a saying that you don't really know what someone is really about until you see how they treat the help. I'm glad she lost.

Oh and since we're talking about sports, If you bother to go to Dodger Stadium for a game and have the best seat, right behind home plate, WATCH THE GAME!!! The beauty of high def is you see everything and if you chat with your pal or catch up on your phone calls while the Dodgers are batting, then DON'T SIT IN THE FRONT ROW!!!! I'm talking to you Vince Vaughn! You just insure that we hardcore fans will never go to your movies and watch you age as fast as David Bowie in The Hunger.

I'm Back!

So I was having some issues with my advertisers that never got resolved so I say, onward.

Is this guy for real? After a lifetime of sitting at the table and eating way more than his share, Mr. T. Boone Pickens has decided that we all need to go on a diet. While I have no problem with the argument that American needs to overcome it's oil lust, is this guy in any position to judge. Solar and wind power must replace oil, but I just don't like the messenger. His basic argument is that our dependence on oil is sending all of our money out of the country. He has no problem with oil lust when it lines his own pocket but giving it to a foreigner is more than he can take. Sounds a bit racist to me. And does he mention global warming and his role in it? That part must have ended up on the cutting room floor of his ubiquitous commercials.

And don't even get me started on his funding of Swift boat liars who torpedoed John Kerry.

It's good to be back.

The Visitor

Summer is the time for bad movies, blockbusters, big explosions, chase scenes, and comic/cartoon characters, when the out of school kids need something to occupy them. But that does not have to be the only choice. I think that if you only see one movie this year, so far, it should be The Visitor.

The Visitor tells the story of a middle aged professor, sleepwalking through his days, whose life becomes intertwined with a young couple trying to build a life together in New York, but living there illegally. Without giving away too much of the plot, The Visitor pulls back the curtain a little to show us the effects of America's immigration policies in the post 9/11 world where secret prisons and shadowy due process have become woven into the fabric of our way of life.

But this does not not do justice to the film, which infuses music with humor and melancholy in ways that all great films should do. It's nice to know that there are filmmakers out there taking on the big issues of the day and talking to us about them like we are adults. Writer/Director Tom McCarthy has done so with great subtlety and nuance that you probably will not get in Ironman and The Incredible Hulk, and actor Richard Jenkins' name will be heard a lot come Oscar time if there is any justice in the world(which there isn't, but I like the expression anyway).

Knuckleheads

Fools and microphones. They just always seem to find each other. As Don Imus once again puts his foot in his mouth, then cries the usual, "just kidding" defense, the cross eyed giant poses the age old question, "Kobe, how my ass taste"? Unbelievable...

George Carlin always knew what to do with a mic in his hands. If he were alive today and heard these two buffoons, he'd die.

Fox guarding the chicken coop

I Love LA

There may be a Starbucks in The Forbidden City. There may be a Disneyland in Paris. Coca Cola may be the largest private sector employer in Africa, but only in Los Angeles do even the mannequins have boob jobs! I spotted this lovely plastic lady on Wilshire Blvd. showing her Laker spirit. What a classic LA moment. I love my city, warts and all.

Father's Day

Today is Father's Day, which means that Dad's everywhere should be free to do whatever it is they want. That means that if they want to play cards all day, so be it. If two desserts is on the menu, then two desserts it is(even if they have to pay for it tomorrow).

My Dad is the best. He made me a man in the way it should be done, by example. I don't think my Dad has ever driven above the speed limit. You cannot underestimate the importance of this, because it shows that there are no loopholes. I think that the greatest disservice a parent can do to a child is to leave an impression that the rules can be bent to fit some short term need. By making "the rules" negotiable, you tell a child that anything goes if you can get away with it, and that goes for their own rules down the line, and will eventually come back to haunt them. Ethics is something that does not get enough respect in our society because religion has made morality more important. In my world, the bumper sticker does not read, "what would Jesus do?" it says, "what would Daddy do?"

Happy Father's Day Daddy!

McCain's new lapdog

I just changed the setting on the blog so that you can email a particular entry by clicking on the envelope icon next to the comment button.

Ode to W

Happy Birthday Mom!!!

Today is my Mom's birthday. I love this picture of her. It was taken at my wedding and I have no idea what she and Rob are laughing about, but it makes me smile. It hangs above my TV, the most hallowed of ground in my home. She gave me my premature grey hair and my nose. She gave me my fire and most of my grit. She gives me the most unconditional love and thinks my comics are funny. She and my Dad give me the reason to keep this blog going. If I was not 3,000 miles away, I would bring her African violets and Bailey's Irish Cream today, but I'm not, so I offer you this tribute instead. Happy Birthday Mom! I love you very much.

Over?

In the neighborhood of funny

Comic strip Part 2

getting closer to funny......maybe.

Comic strip?

My contribution to the realm of questionably funny comics. Click on the image to see full size. This is a work in progress...

Design Within Reach

My wife and I have a running argument about Design Within Reach. Design Within Reach is a furniture store that features stylish modern furniture. We are both fans of this particular style and always look through the new catalogue when it comes in the mail. The argument pretty much always goes the same way, I start ranting and raving about the "within reach" part of the name. $1,900 chairs and $18,000 couches are hardly "within reach" for most people. Her argument, which sounds remarkably like their company line, is that pieces from the great designers of our times are virtually inaccessible for most people because one would have to know someone to even be able to get an appointment with them. Even if this is true, it begs the question, what does "within reach" really mean. I think that you have to be rich no matter what to own the majority of the stuff they sell. Two designers featured in the catalogue, Charles/Ray Eames and Isamu Noguchi did in fact make affordable furniture for the masses when they were alive. I don't know, it just seems ridiculous to sell a chair that costs a third of the average person's yearly salary and that is hardly "within reach"

Sunday Funnies

Are the sunday comics supposed to be funny? For the life of me, I don't see much humor. Granted, my sense of humor may not be the best, but half of the comic strips don't seem to even have a punchline. You know it's a problem when Doonesbury makes the most sense in all of the sunday funnies. Perhaps it's generational but I think there has to be more to it than that. This stuff isn't even corny.

It's too bad Boondocks is gone. That, I got. And I do like La Cucaracha by Lalo Alcaraz.

I was talking to a friend of mine a few weeks ago about NBA basketball and in passing I made the comment that "chippy" must be the Whitest word in the English language. For those of you who have better things to do than watch basketball all day, "chippy" is an expression used by announcers when the players look like they may fight. A few weeks after this conversation with my friend, he asked me, "well, if 'chippy' is 'White' then what is the 'Black' version of this word." I had no immediate answer. I offered "heated" and "testy" but neither seemed to be a perfect fit. The conversation amused me because I grew up in the suburbs, what do I really know about the "hood" and what is "street".

Afterwards, I got to thinking about White words and Black words because clearly there are some differences. I don't know a single Black guy who refers to his friends as Bro, as in"Hey Bro, how's it going?". That one definitely goes on the chippy side. By the same token, there is no explaining the collective dyslexia of Blacks who say "aks" instead of "ask". That one may result more from class and education than race though. On the colorblind level, I love to hear people on court shows "proceeding", as in "then I proceeded to go to the laundromat, your honor" Who in their daily life uses the word proceeded? It's one of those words that is so specific, like you only use the word reputed when referring to mobsters. Anyway, I'd love to know if anyone can think of any more "White" words or "Black" words. Hit the comment button and let me know if you come up with any?

The Big Wheel

Oscar Brown Jr. penned these lyrics for the song Dat Dere. For me, the Big Wheel symbolizes freedom. Well, not freedom exactly, but a taste of independence for a boy of my generation. The Big Wheel offered the first chance to truly venture out a bit and explore the block where you lived, which later gives way to the bicycle and a little more range before the ultimate rite of passage, the driver's license and driving a car.


Tomorrow is tax day I'm sorry to say, although President Jackass is going to try and appease everyone by giving us back some chump change. More importantly, it is also Jackie Robinson Day commemorating the 61 year anniversary of his breaking of the color barrier in major league baseball. It is only day when any pro baseball player can wear number 42, which was officially retired for all teams except for this one day every year. It's too bad that very few Blacks are drawn to baseball anymore. Such is life.

More signs of the apocalypse

What is with these new digital billboards? I assume they are everywhere, but in LA, they are everywhere! Inevitably, the bulk of the ads are horrendous and obnoxious but we expect that from the ultimate attention seeker, I mean the ultimate inanimate attention seeker(sorry Britney). In Los Angeles, and most American cities, Clear Channel owns almost all of the billboards, but I heard somewhere that the city must issue permits, giving the final say. Since our District Attorney, Rocky Delgadillo, was recently the guest of honor at some big Clear Channel function, its not surprising that these new billboards keep showing up like a dirty penny or crabgrass.

Since the billboards are here to stay, wouldn't it be nice if they were not 100% urban blight? Being that they are capable of alternating their images every 30 seconds or so, wouldn't it be nice if they were required to flash something cultural and/or artistic say every 30 seconds out of every 5 minutes? Maybe a quote from Martin Luther King or Ghandi, or the Dahlai Lama every once in a while will cut through the bile? Perhaps a view of Picasso's Guernica while driving to work could soothe a soul or two. It should be required, for every unpleasant image, there should be some kind of pleasant counterbalance. But what do I know, other than that LA gets uglier by the minute.

Cops

Can someone explain to me why police officers, when making traffic stops or answering complaints, feel the need to almost always leave their cars sticking out into traffic while writing tickets or dealing with the bad guys. I have never been given a credible explanation why it's necessary to make LA traffic worse than it already is. It seems ironic that they break the law in order to enforce the law. Is it that much trouble to park legally then write the ticket or tell some drunken knucklehead to stop peeing in public? Of course this is excusable at the end of high speed chases, bank robberies and the like, but do you really need to leave your prowler in the middle of the street. Some people say that desperate times require desperate measures but in an enlightened society, it is the desperate times that require character, ethics and clear, deliberate thinking, not less. Maybe someone should mention that to the idiot in the White House.

Based on a photo of Bob Gibson, one of the most dominant and scary pitchers ever. He was so feared that it was common knowledge that if you got a hit off of him and showed even the slightest hint of celebration, then he would throw at your head the next time you came up. The lyrics come from Novocaine for the Soul by The Eels.

Everything's Canada Dry

This line comes from a Tom Waits song called Little Boy Blue. I think that Tom Waits is one of America's greatest living poets. I'm not sure why this line cracks me up but it does. Who knows what he means. The intent for this piece was to have the look of a 60's record with a touch of Saul Bass, who designed many of my favorite movie posters(Vertigo, Carmen Jones, Man With the Golden Arm) and was influenced by Henri Matisse, my favorite painter. I put links to both Matisse and Saul Bass in the good stuff links to the right if you want to check them out.

Elvis Costello

From Lipstick Vogue by Elvis Costello. When I started this series, there was a part of me that felt that I had some explaining to do. In an attempt to deflect some of the vanity associated with putting your art out there for others to see, it made sense to use the words of those I admire or feel some sort of connection to rather than my own. More often than not, people take something completely different than what was intended and I'm sure to be just as guilty of misrepresentation. But every once in a while, everything just clicks. When my Dad saw this painting for the first time, he looked at it and then in passing said simply, "almost, huh?" It was a perfect moment, because that is exactly what I was trying to say.
That was a good day.

The lyric in this painting comes from a Billy Bragg song called Wishing the Days Away from the album Talking With the Taxman About Poetry. I've always been fascinated by Lay-Z-Boy chairs. They are quintessentially American, big and not so classy, but very comfortable. I've been drawing and painting them for a long time but I think this one is my favorite. At least it's the most inviting.

Spitcurl

This painting was inspired by a song called The House That Used To Be written by Rhett Miller and performed by his band, The Old 97s.
This is probably the least subtle piece in the series.
Hopefully the message is profoundly clear that if you bought a gas guzzling Hummer while our country is at war, you are not only a selfish child, but you are killing me you and everyone else.
I have no idea what Rhett Miller means by the line but it’s ambiguity is very alluring. It means so much and so little at the same time, which for me gives lyrics their value.

A modest proposal

I am so tired of people honking their car horns. It is the quintessential display of hostile impatience. I know you can't take away people's horns, since they do serve a purpose, like if you're coming around a blind turn in the mountains or something. I suggest a compromise. All new cars should come with two horns, the standard obnoxious horn for emergencies, and a second, more pleasant horn. We'll call it a courtesy horn. It could sound like those old fashioned "model t" oogah horns, which would make me smile if someone tooted that behind me if I don't go the split second after the light turns green. Maybe they can make a horn that is the first two notes of "So what" by Miles Davis. Even a clown horns would beat the current blare. And how about a horn that sounded like those metal bells they used to put on bicycles or even one that sounds like the bellhop bell at the desk in hotels. Think of the decline in road rage.

Ok Toyota, get on that.

I decided to start posting some of my paintings periodically. These are part of a series of acrylics inspired by song lyrics. More to follow...



When most people think of Prince, I bet the first thing that comes to mind is those pants with the butt cut out.
Or maybe they don’t.
What I wish they thought was of one of the most astute social commentators of my generation or any one else’s. Sign o the Times is such a sad song, documenting the ravages of AIDS, gang violence, and God’s wrath, but at the end of the day it’s a song of hope, with love saving the day.
And baby shoes are just cool. I don’t know why, but baby shoes are definitely cool.

Bad Bruin Karma

The victory over Stanford last night was fantastic. UCLA has a whole lot of heart. That was better than the Michigan State comeback. I had one problem when it was over though. As the teams headed for respective locker rooms, the UCLA announcer felt the need to state what everyone already knew, that UCLA had clinched the Pac-10 title, which of course brought a roar from the home crowd. I don't know, I felt a little bad for Stanford having to hear that as they left the court. It just seemed like rubbing it in to a team that did not deserve it. Not only is Stanford a very good team, they win the right way, with teamwork and sportsmanship. I think of Robin Lopez helping Russell Westbrook up after a hard foul as a good example of who they are. There are plenty of class challenged types in the Pac-10 like Mr. "please get this guy a tailor" coach across town or "pelt 'em in the face" Morris at Washington, who might justifiably get some Bruin blood boiling, but not The Cardinal. I like to think that we as Bruins are above that. We don't need to show people up. Who are we? Florida? I'm glad John Wooden was not there to hear it. And why give extra motivation to a team you might meet again twice this year. SO NOT COOL!

Vogue is for illiterates

As I look at the three foot stack of magazines staring back at me in the reading room(you know, where I rest on the porcelain throne at 8:15am most days) I spy a headline of the wife's latest issue of Vogue that says "4 day drug detox". Though I have little interest in drug rehab, detox diets intrigue me so I decide to crack open the Yellow Pages sized magazine to check it out. That magazine is made for people who do not read! Its like when you're in a mall and all you want to do is get your underwear and some t-shirts at the gap and leave, but the up escalator and down escalator are on opposite ends of the mall so you have to walk past every shop. Well, finding a table of contents in Vogue is like finding a down escalator, you are going to put in some work to find it. The table of contents starts on around page 160 although who can tell for sure, since they arbitrarily decide when to put page numbers in there, and with all the "ads" between the ads, page numbering gets a little hinky. I never did find the article on detox. Such is life...

Club Monaco Sucks

So I'm in this store on the 3rd street promenade called Club Monaco last week. I had picked out this dress for my wife for her birthday and I'm waiting in line. It's about 7 pm the day before Valentine's Day so I know its going to take some time to get through the line. There are two people working registers, a young man and a not as young woman who had that "I'm in charge" vibe, the way she barked orders at the man. I hate seeing that. Then, a beautiful girl (17 years old at most) walked behind the counter and tells the manager that it's 7 so she's off the clock. The barker then tells her to open her purse, which the young girl dutifully does. After giving the bag a thorough looking over, she tells her she can go. Did I mention this is in a clothing store in Santa Monica. It felt more like county jail. I understand that employees steal. I get that young employees making minimum wage may steal a lot. But this should not happen in front of customers. I wonder how this girl gets treated when there is no one around to see. Maybe if the young girl was not Black, I would have felt less offended, but I doubt it. Anyway, the second this little exchange ended, I put the dress back on the rack and walked out of the store. Club Monaco will never get my money thanks to one horrible manager.

My wife liked the outfit I got instead at Anthropologie

Just Say No

It seems like the last few years has seen the major grocery stores, I suppose in some attempt to bring back that old fashioned customer service has instituted the policy of asking every person buying anything, if they need help out. To this question, just say no. There is nothing more irritating than seeing an able bodied person letting someone else schlep their stuff. Granted, there are plenty of people who genuinely need assistance, but come on. I bet that 95% of the people who do ask for help are the same ugly people who don't let you merge into their lane on the freeway(you know who you are, oh cowards who creeps your car forward without having the dignity to look me in the eye as you don't let me in)

It really boils down to personal responsibility does it not? When did it become ok to not pull one's own weight?

Confederate Flag

So it begins again.(I swiped this line from my friend Jason http://theobamanation.com/blog/). Mike Huckabee rolls out the first hate bomb of the campaign season. Advocating the Confederate flag is such a cheap pandering tactic. I get the idea of states rights. I get that many people died on both sides for all the wrong reasons. I get that most of those Confederate soldiers were not slave owners. But you just cannot deny the racist baggage it carries. On Bill Maher last week, DL Hughley said what all Black people know, that invoking the Confederate flag is code for "we hate Black folks". Trace Adkins half heartedly tried to make the case that this is not what White people in the south are about when they invoke the flag, but come on. The swastika may be some sort of positive Indian symbol in reverse but it does not negate its power to an Aushwitz survivor. The Confederate flag is equally woven into our fabric.

I hope Huckabee is ready for the explosion to come. Besides the one happening to his waistline.

Signs of the Apocalypse

So I'm at the House of Blues the other night minding my own business, taking in Reel Big Fish, when I see something for the first time in my life. A Black dude with absolutely no rhythm. He and his girlfriend danced their little hearts out singing along like there was no tomorrow and all I could think was, wow.... these are definitely the final days. But the harder they partied, the more I realized that this is actually a really good thing. We, and by we I mean Black people have come so far that some of us can't dance. We have to take progress wherever we can get it. Rock on bad dancer.