Smoking Crater

I am so bad at this Social Media shit. & you know that the plural of medium is media, right? Yes I am the Grammar Police, well, I’m with them, so… It’s been what, 2 years since my last confession, I mean post. So many things I should be sharing, but I’m an introvert, I do not crave, need, require constant attention in order to validate my existence, I’m not in love with the sound of my own voice, I’m just not wired up that way. I just think of this as like my uh, no it’s not a diary, I don’t do diaries, I do journaling I guess, not very well, not doing it for an audience, not creating content that may or may not go viral & change the course of history. This could be like my historical record, just in case somebody wants to know how my everyday life went back when I was still alive. When I did banners for freak shows, they would say ALIVE in a red oval if there was actually somebody there, the Fat Lady (“Takes a boxcar to lug ‘er & 2 men to hug ‘er!” or it would say REAL, which meant it was dead, like the pickled punk, a real 2 headed baby in a big jar of formaldehyde, long dead.
My outstanding characteristic at this point seems to be that I am still ALIVE. I wanna do a freak show banner that says FREAKS of NATURE & it’s Underground Cartoonists, which are an Endangered Species, which makes me a little nervous, but/& I’m doing alright, weaker, frailer, less motivated, but/& my Blood Pressure is pretty good, I know this because they take my vitals every time I go to my Spravato sessions at the Child & Behavioral Health Center at Kaseman Hospital which was the original Presbyterian Hospital in Albuqurque, when I first get there, then half way through the 2 hour session, then again at the end. Anyway, I’m fairly healthy compared to most geezers my age. I’m 77 right now. Larry Todd was amused at how we had become the Elder Gods of the Underground Comics. Larry died last year.
So maybe I’ll dump a bunch of shit here, random pictures of some of the shit we have been doing.
As long as nobody is looking at it.

Ben at Discordia did a Cherry puzzle, this artwork is a pencil sketch I did & he got this guy (person) to color it in/over. Don’t know the person’s real name, but he/they go by someting, I forget, YoMama or something like that.

The left flap of this Mirror Maze that Owen Trailers in Jurupa Valley, right across the river from Riverside, California. Not my design, we ended up doing dozens of them, none of them ever came out right. This is half way through. I hated every one of them.

Ashlyn has graduated from High School. She needed some help laying out this thing. She went to Santa Fe & did the model U.N. thing. Did well, from what I hear. This may have something to do with that.

Me in our kitchen in Mesa Village in Albuquerque NM, USA. Think this had something to do with auditions I used to do.

It’s only a New Year because they say it is that then; the Year should be said to have started at the Solstice, but the Julian calendar had 30 days, & Pope Gregory XI, who was rebooting it, used it as a template so the months still had 30 (or so) days. I don’t know that if the months had 28 days like the Lunar cycle then the year would end at the Solstice or not. The Solstice is not an event that begins & ends at certain times, it’s when we are going through the part of the Earth’s revolution around Sol where Earth is rounding the bend of the elliptical path it’s following; the angle of Earth’s axis of rotation relative to the plane of the ellipse remains the same, Earth doesn’t start tilting back the other way, she’s just changing position so that the angle of the axis relative to Sol changes. But in the Industrial Age, when they divided everything, including Time, into separate, discrete mechanical units that can be easily kept track of, the end of that year was then, & the start of this year is now, like someone threw a switch, that year off, this year on. At this arbitrary date. Technically, every day is the start of a new year, is it not? I like to count down the WAIT/WALK signals & cheer when they get to zero.

Now I’m seeing a therapist at Presbyterian, Jessica Sanchez. My pulmonologist is Dr. Sanchez. The first psychologist they sent me to was Sanchez.

Managed to get Covid & give it to Sharon. Friday night we went to a burlesque show at the Press Club, an old bar that used to be a rambling old house on this little hill behind the Parc Central hotel that used to be a hospital in the 20s. Had to immerse myself in the crowd at the bar downstairs to get a $6 Car Bomb & do it the wrong way, one is supposed to drop the shot glass of McCarran’s into the Guinness & slam the whole thing all at once. I did them separately, same effect. But what a tasteless thing to call an Irish drink, because of its destructive potential I guess but shit a car bomb in Ireland is not a fun or funny thing. Upstairs there was eventually a very nice strip show.

Felicia was all in gold. She played 3 different versions of “I Want Money”.

Finally sent my worn out Tilley hat back to Ontario or Toronto, somewhere in Canada but it came back, they’re not there anymore & that’s not how they do it now, see, the Tilley hat is guaranteed for life, this was my 5^th one, it was a hemp one, I was disappointed, it didn’t have much hemp in it or it wouldn’t have worn out. Now you have to send them a digital image of the damage & they have to agree that it needs replacing & then you have to destroy the hat & send them digital proof that you did so & then they send you another one. I got my first one for $50, they’re $100 now. They honored the guarantee & it’s a mighty fine hat.