News from Jackson Press
January - June 2007
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June 27, 2007
Stolen Laptops!
High Culture Cartoons
Paper clips & Binder clips
Happy Father's Day! My children have
proclaimed my "SuperDad" and decreed that I
can fix anything! Oh, they're still so
optimistic at this age!
Okay, my boss's boss's boss's wife is all over the news
(click here),
and some of you would not forgive me for NOT saying
something about it.
Nothing clever to say tonight.
My deepest, heartfelt thanks go out to the Civil
Servitude "fan club" down at the Columbus
Division of Fire's Administration Complex. They
certainly know how to make a guy feel loved! As always, thanks for reading and enjoy.
Hooray! Civil Servitude is one year old on
June 5th!
Mayor Percy has posted his May 2007 Mayor's Memo!
This month he's discussing the Bluff City city pool.
You should expect there to be some issues with the
pool; this is Bluff City, after all.
Just a few brief words. I don’t want these essays distracting from the cartoons. If you enjoy my essay humor that much, then you can buy my book when it comes out. I thought Pirates 3 sucked. Just my opinion, but I got lost several times throughout the movie, wasn’t quite sure who was double-crossing who, and thought the big armada battle scene went on way too long. And what was with Calypso? Turning into a giant pile of crabs and disappearing over the side of the boat. LAME! Let us recap: we saw three triquels ã this month - Spiderman, Shrek, and Pirates. Of the three dvds that will be for sale this Christmas, Spiderman is the only I will buy without hesitation. Pirates will only be purchased because the kids and wife want it. I won’t waste my money on Shrek and ask you to do likewise (i.e. no getting it for my kids for Christmas, grandparents). The "Lost" season finale didn’t completely suck, even though "24" sucked pretty hard. And now the wife wants me to watch some show called "Traveler". No thanks, I’m finally free of TV for the summer. No sense voluntarily throwing my evenings away again! I think I might actually take up reading as a hobby. Imagine that! Actually reading an honest to goodness, old fashioned book! Like a comic book, maybe! As always, thanks for reading and enjoy.
Yesterday was an interesting day. First, my wife redid all the landscaping along the back of the house. It looks real nice. I figure her judicious use of colored mulch and well-placed hostas added $5000 to the value of our home! If nothing else, the pretty landscaping around the house will distract potential buyers from the dead spots in the back yard where the swamp water sits nine months out of the year. My wife also decided to introduce my children to water balloons. Holly went out and bought a bag of official "water balloon" balloons for our upcoming Memorial Day gathering. Now, back in my day, we just used regular balloons and filled them with water. Those were water balloons. Nowadays they sell you actual "water balloon" balloons, although they only fill up to the size of small apples. Everything was bigger and better in the old days. But, if nothing else, we figured this would be a soggy way to keep the children amused and out of our hair. The problem with these tiny little water balloons was that the girls couldn't tie them off. So they went around spraying their victims (i.e. Dad) by stretching the balloon opening and squeezing the water out of the balloons. My children found it terribly amusing. Their victim did not. I was cutting the grass when the ambush took place. Cutting grass is usually a despondent chore to begin with. Being accosted by water didn't make it any better, only slightly cooler. Obviously, no one explained the "Rules of Engagement" to the children! The girls, on the other hand, found great delight in soaking me. Repeatedly. So I tracked down my wife as she continued tweaking the new landscaping and we had a "talk." My part of the talk consisted of chastising her for introducing our children to the art of water balloon combat WITHOUT explaining to them the Rules of Engagement. Her part of the talk consisted of chastising me for being a baby about it. Regarding the Rules of Engagement, Rule Number One states that no non-combatants shall be fired upon; only willing subjects can be assaulted. This rule was not explained to my daughters, so Daddy (a non-combatant) was mercilessly ambushed by my balloon toting children. After my initial wetting, I yelled at the girls about the rules of engagement (oddly enough, they didn't understand the concept), then gave up on the lesson and decided to go for a motorcycle ride. While I was gone, Hannah figured out how to tie off the balloons. She and Haley rapidly stockpiled an arms cache of water balloons and when I got back, ninety minutes later, they had amassed a hoard of at least thirty balloons. They were quite proud of their arsenal. Now all they needed was an excuse to use their weaponry. And like a cold war general itching for a fight, they looked at poor Daddy in his nice dry clothes and attacked. Plop, plop, splash, splash! Suddenly I was wet and my children were laughing. I do believe the Rules of Engagement state that when in water-based combat, the defender has the right to escalate the use of force as necessary. So I escalated by first assaulting their arsenal and using their own balloons against them. Then, when the balloons were gone, I turned the hose on them - the water balloon equivalent to tactical nuclear weapons. The assault was swift and fierce and no one walked away dry. Sadly enough, I don't think the aggressors learned any lessons (much like real life), other than make sure you have a second cache of weapons to fall back on. Tonight we go see "Pirates 3 - At World's
End!" I'm quite excited, though not as excited as
I was to see Spiderman 3. And May is turning out to be
quite the movie month, full of many "Movie
Triquels"© ( yes, I am claiming the phrase
"Movie Triquel" as my own! "Triquel"©
means the third movie in any three-part movies series)
such as "Spiderman 3" (excellent!),
"Shrek the Third" (barely acceptable), and
now "Pirates 3". Okay, enough over-excited babbling. Back to reality. Tomorrow's Memorial Day. Let us remember and pay our respects to those service men and women who gave their lives for the freedoms we take for granted. They are the ultimate civil servants! As always, thanks for reading and enjoy.
This dispatch will be a mish mash of various, disconnected thoughts. Please keep up. Tonight I attended an actual softball game. No more practices – we’re off to the real thing, ready or not. Mostly not. There was no usable shade around the ball diamond, and the sun beat down and the pavement sweltered. Had to be close to ninety-five degrees. Complete opposite to last week’s episode, when Hannah almost suffered frostbite! No goose poop, though. Just a few ducks. Remember the cute little baby bunny I mentioned in the April 25th news? Well, he’s still around, living under the remains of our once glorious forty foot tall (twenty foot diameter) blue spruce pine. That blue spruce is the tree that blew over during the rain-wind storm of December 2006, when the yard flooded – again. The other evening Bunny (I call him "Bugs") was literally lounging in the grass in front of the spruce. He was lying on his side, lazily munching my lawn, and he couldn’t look any more relaxed. If I could get a hundred more like him, I wouldn’t need to cut the grass anymore! Although, then I suppose I’d have to spend all my time cleaning up bunny poop. Bugs is becoming something of a fixture around here. Holly was taking pictures of him last night. She actually got within ten feet of Bugs before he finally ambled off, a little perturbed at being disturbed during his dinner. He’s becoming such a favorite neighbor that I’m going to put off having someone come out to haul off the remains of my once proud blue spruce. It’s Bugs’ home, for goodness sake! I hate to evict him. Tonight I threw a carrot stick at him, um, I mean to him. He just froze. I’ll go out later and see if he actually ate any of it. It was my eldest daughter’s idea. Tonight there’s a two hour "Lost" season finale. "24" sucked pretty hard this season, to the point that I actually worked on drawing the strip while it was on, so I didn’t pay much attention to what was (was not) going on. "Lost" better not blow it, because it’s teetering perilously on the edge. Aw, crap. We’re off to a bad start. They got Jack wearing a really bad fake beard in the opening scene. But the music is always well orchestrated. And now he’s crying over some unseen newspaper article! Good grief! It was so much better when they had to enter the code into the computer every 108 minutes or else everything would be destroyed! Maybe it’s time I start reading books again … Anyway, thanks for reading.
Every year for the last six years American Idol has generated new pop culture for America’s ears. Crossing demographic boundaries, American Idol brings families together to watch the show, with grandchildren enjoying the same music as grandparents. For a few odd moments, everyone shares the same musical tastes. And that’s where my established reality begins faltering. What am I talking about, you ask? Is he babbling again, you ponder? Is he going to tell us more about duck poop or whatever it was he jabbered about in his last dispatch? Good questions, most of them. But, no, no duck poop this week. I'm babbling about something even more disturbing. I'm talking about Bon Jovi. And those of you mature enough to be parents of those of us in my generation may recall Bon Jovi as some of the raucous music your teenaged children played extremely loud. I’m sure it drove you nuts. Now it’s driving me nuts. If you who don’t know who Bon Jovi is, allow me to explain. Bon Jovi was a hard rock band who were very big in the mid 1980’s. In 1986, Bon Jovi had a number one album called "Slippery When Wet," which spawned three top ten hits and at least six top 40 hits. Many people of my generation consider this album to be something of a seminal benchmark from our high school days. Many a wild party was thrown with "Slippery When Wet" blasting in the background. Oh, the memories we would have of the things done whilst listening to Bon Jovi, if only we were sober when those memories were created. Remember, this was in the days when you could legally buy beer at age nineteen. So what’s the problem, you ask? Well, Bon Jovi is bridging the generations. And we can’t have that! Twenty years after "Slippery When Wet," Bon Jovi is back. A few weeks ago, Jon Bon Jovi, the band’s namesake and lead singer, coached the contestants of American Idol and shared his pop music wisdom with the budding pop music icons. Then all the contestants sang Bon Jovi songs. Then Bon Jovi performed their latest hit from their upcoming new album. It was cross marketing nirvana! It was kinda annoying. Suddenly Bon Jovi is hot again – twenty years later! And now there are grandchildren and grandparents watching! And both demographics like Bon Jovi! Imagine that, grandparents and grandchildren both liking the same music! It’s blasphemous! It’s a sign of the end of times! Can you see my conundrum? My ten-year-old likes "You Give Love A Bad Name." That song was on the "Slippery When Wet" album (and this truly was in the days of vinyl LPs and cassette tapes). Granted, my daughter prefers Blake Lewis’s unique "beatbox" style of the song, but still. And here’s the real kicker – my in-laws also like Bon Jovi! They like the song Bon Jovi performed live on American Idol, "Make A Memory," which is on their upcoming album. So there’s my conundrum – both my children and my in-laws like a band that was a benchmark for my high school days. Hell, I made out with my wife in the "back seat" of my 1983 Ford EXP to the strains of "Wanted Dead Or Alive." It’s just wrong! My past is being invaded by my present and my good old high school memories are being watered down by American Idol modern day pop. And the fact that I prefer Blake Lewis’s version of "You Give Love A Bad Name" to Bon Jovi’s original version only makes things worse. Twenty years ago, my parents yelled at me for playing "Livin’ On A Prayer" too loud. Now they’re the ones playing it too loud (on account of being slightly hard of hearing). And my children are playing "You Give Love A Bad Name" too loud on their Ipods. So who do I yell at first?! And if it’s too loud, am I now too old? As always, thanks for reading
I was going to write about the French thirty-five hour work week and what a great idea I think that is, especially for the French. But I left my rough draft at home and I don't remember enough of it to try faking it. So, instead, I'm going to yammer on about miscellaneous crap until I feel that you've gotten your money's worth. And since no money is exchanging hands here I won't tolerate any complaints about the lack of focus in my ramblings, since ramblings are just that - rambling. Hannah just found another jacket in her book bag. That means she's now wearing five layers of garment to ward off the late, late, late winter wind. I only have two layers, but I'm carrying a little more body fat, so I'm still comfortable from a hibernating bear sort of perspective. The softball practice is going well, though not too many balls are being caught. They're trying really hard, but I suspect it's probably a little too cold to really try very hard. This will be an amusing season because Haley is in the Kid Pitch league, which means that the kid's pitch (not the coaches) and there are balls, strikes, and outs. Two geese just flew over head and the one on the left pooped. Hannah pointed this out to me, then she laughed. I'm just glad the birds waited to poop until they were past us. Goose poop is pretty big for bird poop and I suspect it might sting a little when it hits. Some of the girls are bored because it rained last night and the dirt on the ball field is too clumpy to properly kick into vast dust clouds. So instead they're just squishing little clumps of the "mud" together into what looks like little crumbling sand castles. The ice cream man just trundled (haven't heard that one in a while, have you?) down the neighboring street and not one of the girls even noticed. That is the best demonstration of maturity in this U10 league (all the players are ten years old) that I've ever seen. Three years ago, in the U7 league (for ages 7-8), you would've heard at least five girls ask if they could have ice cream, right in the middle of practice, even in the middle of games! Or maybe it's just too bloody cold. I mentioned the ice cream man to Hannah and she said, "I don't feel like having cold ice cream on a cold day." So much for my proof of maturity. The girls are beginning to warm up now, and balls are being caught and plays are being made. Me, I'm losing feeling in my finger tips, so it's getting too hard to type. And Hannah's complaining in between shivers. Time to go warm up in the mini van. As always, thanks for reading
The wife and I drove the Miata (top down, of course) Saturday late afternoon. It was a glorious drive through the country in the sunshine and fresh air. And while driving the convertible on beautiful day with my beautiful wife on a country back road is great enough, we were given a very special bonus! We were driving along the backside of Slate Run Metro Park, on a narrow country road, when we spotted a Barred Owl (Strix varia) sitting on a fence post barely five feet from the road. One does not see Barred Owls every day, so we naturally turned around to get a closer look. As we slowed down to admire the regal bird, it swiveled its head and fixed us with its large, piercing black eyes. It’s a haunting feeling staring into an owl’s eyes, a little unnerving as something wild stares back, regarding you with an intellect we can never know. Since we had to turn around again to put us back in our original direction, the wife suggested I slowly pull over and stop. So there we sat, no more than ten feet from the great bird. It again swiveled its head around and blinked at us, a placid look on its face. Encouraged, I decided to hoot at it, giving the bird my best "who cooks for you" call. I’ve heard enough barred owls around our house over the last ten years that I can dredge up a passable call, so I wasn’t completely ashamed of myself. The wife, however, was embarrassed for the poor owl. Astonishingly, the owl swiveled its head away from us and scanned the field beyond, as if looking this retarded owl it’d just heard. And for a split second I think I actually fooled the old bird. Then the jig was up and the game was over. The owl cast us one last agitated glance and lifted silently into the air, it’s great wings (almost four feet across!) beating the air without a sound. So that was one high point of my weekend, among many others. One low point? The wife and I suffered through "The Good Shepherd." I personally like Matt Damon and I believe the guy can act, but for 2 ½ hours Matt had the same stoic expression on his face and barely said a word. That’s not acting! Hell, I could pull that off! And then there was the droll and confusing storyline. Frankly, I didn’t care about any of the characters by the end of the movie – I was just happy it was over. Just my opinion, but it was a worthless snoozer. But over all, "The Good Shepherd" not withstanding, it was a great weekend spent with family and friends. And the weather was great. What more could one ask for? Well, maybe a million dollars … As always, thanks for reading and enjoy.
May 9, 2007
Like my photo editing software – the old crap I was using finally flaked out on me, as old software is want to do over time. Computer gremlins and such. So I decided to commit myself to figuring out Photoshop, which is a fairly complicated editing software that I have found daunting to use up to this point. But necessity and all that … So I spent an hour last night learning how to do my cartoons in the new software. And editing my cartoons in the computer is a big part of the process. I initially sketch the strip in non-photo pencil, then go back over it in ink, tracing the pencil sketch. Then I scan the strip, resize it, pull it into Photoshop, add shading, do all the text, and save it in a couple different formats. It’s a lot of work, but you’d never know it by simply looking at the strip. And it goes a lot slower when the television’s on. I’ll admit that I have a lot of trouble keeping my attention focused when the TV is on. My kids suffer from the same affliction. Drives their mother nuts. Heck, it drives me nuts, but I can understand and empathize (and that, hopefully, makes me a good dad). I'm rambling a bit. The television’s on as I write this and I'm trying my damndest to ignore American Idol. It’s Bee Gee’s song night and I’m just not a Bee Gees fan. Before my time (only thirty-nine, remember?) and not my cup ‘o tea, musically speaking. And this is from a guy with a wide range of musical tastes. I listen to just about everything and have favorites in all genres – except Bee Gees. So now I'm thirty-nine. After I turned thirty I decided to only formally observe every fifth birthday, like thirty, thirty-five, forty. Forty will be the big one for me, the end of the thirties. The end of an era. By age forty, one should start knowing better, one should have developed some lick of common sense. Me, I’m choosing to stay thirty-five, mentally speaking. Or maybe twenty-five, for that matter. Hell, why not fifteen? I am a cartoonist, after all. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy.
Spiderman 3 was great, though not enough screen time for Venom, the black-suited Spiderman villain. I saw it Friday with the missus, then saw it again today with my girls. I even wore my Venom t-shirt to the movie. The kids thought it was cool. So did I. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy.
May 3, 2007
For me, this is one of the most highly anticipated superhero movies since the last Batman movie, Batman Begins (which was a great Batman movie, actually better than Michael Keaton in the first Batman movie, which was a very good Batman movie). Of great disappointment was the last Superman movie, where the best part was Superman stopping the airplane from crashing into the ground, but it wasn’t enough to salvage the whole movie. My kids liked it, though. Sort of. That says a lot. Yes, I am a former (?) comic book geek from my middle school/high school days. Oddly enough, Spiderman wasn’t one of the books I regularly read, since I was drawn to the mutant superhero books like X-Men and the blind superhero Daredevil comics. And then there were the obligatory Batman books. I liked my superheroes with mutant powers or billionaire budgets. But Spiderman always felt too normal. Maybe "real" is a better description. I mean, hell, the poor guy couldn’t pay his bills on time, he always had girl trouble, he lived in a crappy apartment and worked crappy jobs while putting himself through school. Then there were the bad guys he fought; kind of second or third tier bad guys with wimpy powers and weak back-stories. And Spiderman himself wasn’t the strongest or the fastest or the meanest or most powerful superhero, either. Among superheroes, Spiderman was kinda, well, normal. He couldn’t fly, and he got his butt kicked a lot, and he had to make his own spider web fluid (which was changed in the movies to where Spiderman naturally generated his own webbing, which always made more sense to me). So none of that really appealed to a geeky kid who was looking for strong, fast, mean, and powerful superheroes to identify with. But now I'm older (no less geeky) and the "normal" aspects of Spiderman finally do appeal to me. His faults make him seem more real, which makes the stories more enjoyable. And my girls like Spiderman, too, so it’s Daddy-Daughter bonding time when we watch the movies or read the comic books. And my girls have their own favorite superheroes, the Teen Titans, so I watch the cartoons with them and read their comic books. It’s kinda fun, and it makes me feel like a cool dad. Hopefully my kids think that, as well. So Friday I'm donning my Venom t-shirt (Venom is one of the new (cool) villains in this movie, click here for an explanation), having lunch with my wife, and going to see Spiderman 3 on the big, BIG screen (IMAX). It’s gonna be cool! But Spiderman’s not in the latest Civil Servitude episode; just the usual cast of bumblers. Enjoy and thanks for reading!
April 29, 2007
Not only did we get the latest strip done, but we also posted Mayor Percy’s April Mayor’s Memo. He’s come up with a fantastic new incentive program for both the employees AND the citizens of Bluff City. We’re all quite excited about it! In addition to completing Civil Servitude stuff, I also managed to resurrect the lawn tractor that caused me so much grief last weekend (and even cut the grass, as much as I hate doing it. And I only got stuck in the mud of Jackson Swamp three times! And I managed to NOT run over the baby bunny!). Saturday afternoon the girls and I went fishing. Although the girls didn’t catch anything, it was still a fantastic success because nobody got hooked by an errant cast! I also managed to place in the money on both poker games that were played Saturday night! AND I may have found a solution for the bouncy floors afflicting Jackson Press! This week I’m running an experiment with basement jacks and two-by-sixes; it requires my wife to periodically dance around the front room doing her Baywatch imitation of Pamela Anderson running along the beach. And the weather was gorgeous! The only thing I didn’t get to do this weekend was ride the motorcycle. But there’s always tomorrow evening. Since the grass is cut, I’ll have a few hours after dinner. So, yes, I am feeling glorious! Please enjoy the latest episode and share in my glorious-ness. And don’t forget to read Mayor Percy’s April Mayor’s Memo. We’re hoping it inspires you to perform random acts of kindness to your neighbors. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy!
My daughters just skipped out the front door to adore the little bunnies. Of course, this scared the living crap out of the little bunnies and caused them to scramble for their lives. Kids and bunnies running everywhere! It’s sooooooooo cuuuuuutttttttteeeeee! The frogs, however, are just plain weird. The first frog was a curiosity, an accidental pet. My eldest daughter, being the empathic creature she is (quite unlike her father), brought home two African Clawed Frog tadpoles last June. The tadpoles were part of a third grade biology experiment and any tadpoles remaining at the end of the year would be flushed. So our house became a haven for refugee tadpoles. Then one tadpole ate the other. Imagine trying to explain that one to your nine-year-old. I believe the words "natural selection" were uttered. We’ll explain cannibalism next year. So the remaining tadpole grew into a frog. His name is Zilla. He’s a happy frog, joyfully serenading us to sleep at night with his gentle croaking. He’s really looking for a mate when he croaks, so it’s kinda of sad, all that late night forlorn croaking. So everyone (but me) decided he needed some friends. And now we have three frogs in our tank. Wait; check that, we now have two frogs. Musta been shock. I don’t see any apparent signs of cannibalism. Speaking of cannibalism, we’ve got a new strip waiting for your enjoyment! And check out our Civil Servitude merchandise! Yes, you, too, can have an officially licensed Bluff City coffee mug! As always, thanks for reading and enjoy!
April 22, 2007
I hate yard work! I specifically hate cutting grass. This is all the more bitter because Jackson Press is located on an acre lot, which is really only about two-thirds of an acre because one-third of it is still swampy from our now infamous drainage problem, but you get the idea. We have a lot of grass. But the fact that I hate cutting grass did not dissuade me from purchasing this house because I hated my old neighbors worse than I hated cutting grass. Yes, hate is a strong word and I mean it very literally. I hated those people – from the trash in the front yard to their juvenile delinquent children, from the loud thumping rap music to the Harley friends who’d rev up their motorcycle engines at 2AM after drinking all night (and I’m a motorcycle guy!). There was neighborhood gossip that they were drug dealers. Sheriff’s deputies showed up at their house twice a month for one misdemeanor or another. I may be a slight misanthrope, but that family was from Hell! So I was quite willing to tolerate three hours of grass cutting on a lawn tractor if it got me away from those people and their decadent spiral into oblivion. They were a dysfunctional family about to implode and I knew they’d take us with them when it happened. I had a very healthy fear of being the victim of a drive-by shooting from some idiot rival drug dealer who mistakenly switched their address with ours! Then we found this place … and now I spend three hours a week on a twenty-five year old lawn tractor putting around the "acre" cutting grass. Or I used to cut grass on a twenty-five year old lawn tractor. Today the tractor refused to start. When it did fire up it ran rough and belched – no, vomited – clouds of white smoke into the air. It looked like the damn thing was on fire, there was so much smoke. I spent an hour and a half trying to coax it back to life. No luck. I think the carburetor needs rebuilt. Rebuilding things is a very pertinent analogy for everything else here at Jackson Acre. It’s like I’m constantly fixing things, trying to right the wrongs inflicted on this house and property over the last thirty years. This place is like my own personal purgatory and I won’t be released until everything wrong with the house and the property is fixed. This week it’s the tractor. Last week it was the floor jacks in the basement. The week before that it was the too narrow doorway into the kitchen. Sometimes I question which is worse – this house and yard or my old neighbors. And the real kicker? The neighbors from Hell moved out of their house six or seven months after we moved here! But there’s a new Civil Servitude! And an editorial cartoon! Life is good!
April 18, 2007
April 15, 2007
But not City of Columbus email accounts. After careful thought and consideration, I’ve decided it’s time to stop "spamming" City of Columbus accounts with my Civil Servitude emails. From the beginning, I’ve consciously set a boundary for myself to separate my work from Civil Servitude. I don’t want anyone accusing me of using my city job to further Civil Servitude and sending Civil Servitude email to City of Columbus email accounts gives the appearance of doing just that. My emails could be considered "spam" to some denouncers and naysayers (and supervisors). And to some less than technical folks, it could appear like I am using my position within the city’s technology department to skirt the boundaries of the city’s spam filter. If they only knew that I have no real technology skills left, they’d see that I couldn’t possibly pull that trick off. Alas, I am now just a bureaucratic, middle management husk of once useful technology knowledge. But it’s all about appearances and I don’t want to appear as crossing the line, so no more Civil Servitude email to City of Columbus email accounts. It’s the only way to keep Civil Servitude pure and unadulterated from my daily work life. So if you’re currently receiving my emails at work, you work for the City of Columbus, and you wish to continue receiving these emails, you’ll have to send me a personal email account. Rest assured that you do not need to receive the emails in order to read of the exploits of Jackson Press. I will continue to post the contents of my emails in the "News" page on the Civil Servitude website, so you’ll still have access to the unique events that happen here at Jackson Press (like floods, children vomiting, and pointless poop-culture rants). And we here at Jackson Press will continue to tell it like it is and call them as we see them, no punches pulled, no governmental employment aspect too sacred. People are evidently talking about Civil Servitude. That’s good. Let’s just hope they have something resembling a sense of humor. And no one should feel singled out – we’re lambasting everyone here, from politicians to engineers to unions to technologists. No one is safe! And if someone is a little too thin-skinned, they
can choose to not read Civil Servitude. It’s a free
country. And this is becoming a glorious example of
the first amendment! As always, thanks for reading. It is truly appreciated!
April 11, 2007
April 8, 2007
Sword Fights in the Workplace! This week Jackson Press goes the extra mile for
you, our faithful readers. This week we give you
a sword fight in the workplace! Tell me, where
else are you going to find a sword fight in a cartoon?
Besides maybe Prince Valiant ... or Hagar the Horrible
... or that one pirate cartoon.
April 4, 2007
Knights in Tarnished Armor When I was a kid, I wanted to be a variety of things when I grew up, from a soldier to a knight to a cartoonist to an astronaut to Captain Kirk to Magnum P.I. And like all children, I pretended like I was a soldier, a knight, an astronaut, and Captain Kirk. Sometimes I still pretend that I’m Magnum P.I., especially when I’m driving in my convertible. I really loved the Middle Ages. I was fascinated by the chivalrous knights on horseback, hacking the Godless hordes to death and damnation in Hell. Okay, so I didn’t actually understand the whole Crusades thing as a child, but oh how I admired those knights in their shiny armor, with an indestructible broadsword at their side and a sturdy horse to joust on. Since broadswords and horses were a little hard to come by in my neighborhood, I made do with old yardsticks carefully taped together with duct tape. Mounting our bicycles as horses, my friends and I rode off in search of adventure and Godless hordes. That sword was one of my most prized childhood possessions and I never lost a fight with it (it’s kind of hard to lose a fight to an imaginary enemy, unless you really suck at sword fighting). Where’s he going with all this, you ask. Good question. And I have no answer, other than I had this tremendous urge to draw knights in chain mail armor with halberds (look that one up!). So, there are two knights in the latest episode (click here to enjoy). My girls, ages 8 and 10, told me they actually thought the cartoon was funny. Let that be a warning. Or an invitation.
April 2, 2007
After much response to my April Fool's Day email, most of the response coming in the form of complaints about being duped, my better half suggested I send a follow up email to clarify that, yes, the entire previous email was an April Fool's Day joke. No basement flood. No six figure contract. Now if you believed all that, we've got some Civil Servitude stuff to sell you. No, seriously, we've got some prototype Civil Servitude stuff on the site. Click here to check it out. Let us know what you think. Thanks for reading. And thanks for restoring my faith in the general gullibility of the human race. It has begun. Buckeyes versus Gators (again). GO BUCKS! So now who's an April Fool?
April 1, 2007
What a weekend it’s been! Both exciting and tragic! First the bad news. No doubt, many of you are now more than familiar with our struggles here at Jackson Press against the forces of Nature. It is a never-ending assault in the form of groundwater incursions into the basement. Well, we finally lost the battle today, while we were away for the afternoon. Through some freak stroke of bad luck, we had power outage this afternoon. Normally, the backup sump pump could maintain drainage during a relatively dry period like this (the pump going off only every ninety seconds, versus every ten seconds during a light drizzle). Today, however, the battery for the backup pump failed and the basement flooded with over two feet of water! Everything in the basement was lost to the water, including all my tools and firearms, our PlayStation 3, many of the girls’ favorite toys (including both of their American Girl dolls!), as well as my new treadmill and our furnace! It will take at least twelve hours to pump all the water out and weeks to completely dry out and restore the basement! Truly a bad, bad day. However, there is some good news. On the exciting side of things, Civil Servitude has been picked up by United Webcomic Artists for internet syndication! Jackson Press will soon be signing a contract for a three-year deal to provide twice weekly strips to over fifty thousand web sites managed by United Webcomic Artists. This deal will provide Jackson Press with a respectable income stream over the next three years! Although it’s not quite enough to quit working for my current employer, it will position us to renegotiate in three years for a potential yearly syndication rights fee in the six figure range! Jackson Press has you, our faithful readers, to thank for our explosive growth and success! Jackson Press also wishes to remind you that it is April Fools Day as I write this. April Fools! Truthfully, though, there is a new strip and the Mayor’s March memo! Finally, we’ll learn a little bit of Bluff City’s history. At least we’ll learn about the significance of the beaver on the Bluff City seal! Enjoy! And thanks for reading.
March 28, 2007
Spring Break's over tomorrow.
Sigh. No more staying up late, drinking and
dancing till dawn. No more sleeping in late,
sipping exotic coffees on the veranda in the late
morning sun.
March 25, 2007
Good day. I've been on spring
break for a total of five days now.
March 21, 2007
It's finally Spring Break! And
I, for one, am on my spring break. It started
today.
March 19, 2007
Welcome to another Monday! And
we here at Jackson Press are doing our part to start
it off right!
March 14, 2007
Jeopardy Contestants Hello again. It's been a long week since we last spoke. A very long week. And it's only Wednesday (we last spoke on Sunday). There's a new Civil Servitude available for your reading enjoyment. But I'm here to talk about Jeopardy. Right now it's on the television. Alex Trebek is currently greeting the contestants. He asks each of them a question, which is a none-to-subtle prod for the contestants to share a story about themselves. I suspect the Jeopardy producers ask all contestants to come up with an interesting story about themselves so that they'll seem like they have a real personality. Tonight's stories are lame. Real lame. They are unexciting stories about getting upgraded to first-class on an airline flight or being in a cross-word puzzle documentary. Good grief, people! If you don't have an interesting life you need to make something up! Weave a bold tale about the weekend you spent in a Tijuana Jail! Spin a thick yarn about the time you sailed solo from Australia to Hawaii, eating only what you could catch with a ball of yarn and a safety pin (it was a solo trip, for goodness sake! Who the he!! will know you're lying?). Tell Alex you lost 197 pounds on that trip. Flat out lie to Alex Trebek about how you were almost gored while running with the bulls in Pamplona. Tell him how you lost a shoe and stumbled before the thundering herd, falling to one knee. Tell him how the ground pulsed as the bulls thundered closer and you knew you were doomed to horrific pain and disfigurement. Then suddenly there was a hand, reaching down from above like an angel. You grabbed the hand and hoisted yourself up onto a fire escape, one shoe missing, and came face-to-face with the most beautiful Spaniard (male/female - depends on the gender of the liar) you've ever seen. Safe from harm, you spent the rest of the day sipping mohitas with your savior and discussing the finer points of spanish art. Who was better? Goya? Or Dali? And could King Kong really take Godzilla in a fight? That's the kind of question you need to ask Alex Trebek. Put that pompous know-it-all in his place! But if nothing else, spare the rest of us from the boredom that we already experience in our own lives and make something up! Criminy, if getting upgraded to first class on a plane flight is the only interesting thing that has happened to you in the last ten years, then you need to get out a little more. Maybe head to Spain in July and run with the bulls or something. By the way, do you think Ken Jennings ran out of interesting stories on his fabled Jeopardy run? He didn't strike me as all that interesting to begin with. Towards the end he was probably regaling Alex with fascinating stories about what he ate for breakfast. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy! I’ll be here sipping honey lager and discussing the finer points of cartoons. Which is funnier - Calvin & Hobbes or The Far Side?
March 11, 2007
Motorcycle Therapy This weekend was the Daytona 200; the inaugural 200 mile motorcycle race at fabled Daytona racetrack that kicks off the 2007 American Superbike racing season. It’s also the official start to my personal riding season, since a weekend of watching 200MPH sportbikes is always inspirational. This year’s Daytona weekend was all the better because today was warm enough to actually go for a ride! I’ve been riding for seventeen years now. And I’m working on my fifth motorcycle. I tried to give up the sport two summers ago by selling my last two bikes and buying a Miata convertible. By May of last year, I was deep into withdrawal and looking for a fix. I found it in a 1984 500cc Honda Interceptor, which is the smallest bike I’ve ever owned. It’s also been the most enjoyable. Simple, back-to-basics motorcycle riding. Motorcycling is a meditative, relaxing activity for me. It’s all about getting away, emptying the mind, settling down. And the first ride of the season is always the best – it’s when I get reacquainted with all those familiar but dormant sensations and feelings, the things that drive me to ride. Like the feel of warm sunshine on my back while the cool wind blows past my legs. Or the throaty growl of the motor as I speed past a slow moving car that’s wasting a perfect riverside road by not even doing the speed limit. It’s the way the bike leans effortlessly from left to right as I flick it through my favorite riverside S-curve. And how the three guys flyfishing in the river all look up to watch as I accelerate out of the curve and flash past them. It’s the smells – fresh air, the barbecue restaur |
