I only had one Black Friday experience. That was enough for me. It was a different culture, a different world… even though all the faces seemed familiar… they all had that look. The steamroller look. The 50% off look. The “I need this enough to physically harm you into submission”.
Ironic that even though I was in the middle of what could only be accurately described as the Thunderdome, there were Christmas carols playing… music that did little to soothe the savage beasts around me. The only thing that soothed them was getting what they needed to get or everything running out.
there are a ton of things i can be thankful for on thanksgiving. i’m not going to bore you with the specifics… mostly because thinking about all the good stuff in my life will make me start crying. nothing kills a holiday faster than seeing a squirrel holing a spoon and a fork crying his tail off.
now i plan on being thankful on the inside today while i methodically eat myself into a mashed potato coma…
We all go through changes in life. Life is a cycle…sometimes the chain is well oiled, sometimes it’s rusty.
This is what I looked like in 2002…the year I was re-born. Just another little sketch in one of Frank’s many sketchbooks. If events of that day had been even slightly different, I may not have existed…well, I would have still existed… just not with Frank. All it takes is one thing to set the cards another way.
I like the fact that over the course of 10 years, my arms have gotten longer. My nose is a little narrower and my tail is a bit fuller. I don’t feel any different now physically, but I know I think differently. I see things differently. If I didn’t have 3000+ strips to look at, I would think that I remained the same and everything else around me changed. Seriously… you probably would too.
The thing about change is that it can be everything and nothing at the same time. It can be subtle or severe. If you’re looking for it, you probably won’t see it. If you see it, you probably won’t acknowledge it. When you finally feel it, you probably won’t be too happy about it. When you’re not happy about it, all yo can do about it is not be happy about it. Change is a selfish being… and it’s not going anywhere.
An exercise in futility. When I think of exercise, I think of an activity that will eventually make me healthier, stronger or smarter. An exercise in futility is something that makes me better at something that has a negative outcome? An outcome that is already determined before I even begin the exercise? Calling it an exercise is kind of insulting. I don’t want to become better at having absolutely no effect on anything. What’s the point of that? That won’t even make eligible to become a question on Jeopardy.
I want to be a question on Jeopardy. I just have to figure out how to build a sandcastle with only sand.
If you continually stay in the shadows and run away from the spotlight, what right do you have to complain? Let’s face it, I’m going to complain no matter what. But, those that want the glory, yet don’t want to open themselves up to all its trappings… nothing… nothing to complain about. Learn how to see in the dark.
Are you enjoying these little strolls down memory lane? I have so much I want to say but unfortunately, I need Frank for the images… despite my hours and hours of practice, I can’t seem to get the line that Frank gets. He’s got his hands full with a bunch of different things at the moment so I feel bad demanding images from him. Don’t get me wrong, I still demand them… I just feel bad about it. As in this panel from back in the day, I played rock paper scissors with him for a new drawing… he obviously won. The first time I ever used paper…I never use paper.
If i wanted a mouth full of mush, I’d make a bowl of mush… I don’t want a bowl of mush, I want to taste the tropics with my buds… I want to hear the crisp unzipping of those fresh banana peel. Is that so wrong? Is that asking too much?
Frank is creative. I’ll just put that out there. I wouldn’t have adopted him if he wasn’t. Sometimes, the creative flow can lose a bit of its pressure. it could be from anything: overuse, under use, just tired, just really tired, wondering how you’re still upright tired… anything. He didn’t make me up… that’s how real I am.
Just in case you were wondering. A lot of people ask if Frank lives with a squirrel… how come not nearly as many people ask me if I really live with a bunch of humans? Maybe Frank is the fabricated phantom and I’m running the show… Seriously! I know for a fact that Frank couldn’t possibly do all this by talking to himself… because once you really get to know him it’s better that you DON’T talk to him. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy to death… but there are times when i throw the life preserver out to him as hard as I can and he just throws it right back…
Good thing he’s documenting it all in the strips each day and I’m doing my own thing with squirrelosophy… otherwise no one would believe it.