Happy birthday poppa.
Matt K.
Yep, it is indeed two in a row. Today is an even more special day than yesterday (sorry Todd) because it is my dear old dad's birthday. I have no idea anymore how old he is...somewhere in the late 50's I reckon. It's weird because I can still remember what he was like when he was in his 30s. My age right now. Crazy. Any way, like most fathers and sons, we had our differences and we had our clashes and we had our good times, but all in all he's my dad and I do love him. Sorry pa, I don't want to get all sappy and stupid online, plus it's easier to make lame jokes about friends than it is to write about your parents. So happy birthday, I haven't forgotten, and here for the world to see is the best photograph I have of you, me, and mom way waaaaay back in June of 1987 when I graduated from high school. I think we all had some awesome hair back in the day. Check it out everyone. Oh, and please feel free to email and make fun of my hair, my clothes, the expression on my face, or anything else about me in the 80s you would like to.
Happy birthday poppa.
Matt K.
In what seems to have become a strange sort of tradition here on Spudd64.com, it is time to wish another good friend a very happy birthday. Although this one comes with some sadness since I have absolutely no photographs, embarrassing or otherwise, to share with you all. It's doubly tragic since he can be truly hilarious. However, I have managed to piece together a few images that will probably not have any meaning to anyone but him so here goes...
Today, October 23, is Todd Michael B.'s birthday! Happy birthday you idiot! It's sad, but I don't even know exactly how old he is. To him, I've been 40 years old forever, and since I'm actually not there yet I know he is significantly younger than I am. Early 30s or thereabouts. I've shared some details about Todd before, but I'll sum it all up again here, briefly. I met Todd, or Toad, when I worked in the maintenance department at Lorain Community Hospital. We spent summer after summer after summer painting just about everything in that hospital, sleeping in the morgue, getting paid to get haircuts, shaving coworker's heads, playing basketball, and giving out Rookie of the Year Awards. Todd seemed like the kind of guy I would hate. I was kind of an idiot back then, but I was all up into progressive rock, comic books, science fiction novels, and thrift store clothes. Todd dressed really well, came from a family with money, listened to r & b, had a tan, played varsity basketball, and was really tall. And then, OUT OF NOWHERE, we actually became friends. Years have passed, and Todd has gotten married to a wonderful woman and started a family of his own. He actually contributes to the world in some pretty amazing ways. We don't see each other often at all, although there is an occasional email or phone call. Really, I only think of Todd on two occasions - that's morning, noon and night. But I count myself incredibly lucky to have Todd as a friend. Time has done nothing to diminish the respect and affection I have for him, and that is the surest indicator of true friendship that I know. Even though it may be months before I see Todd again, I know that when I do it will seem as if no time has passed and we'll be laughing like old times. So let's begin the meaningless stream of images that will hopefully bring a smile to my friend's face. I'm sure there are things I am forgetting Todd, but this is the best I could do with the internet.
First, a photograph of our boss, the one and only Manuel 'Tony' Pagan.
Our other boss, who was in charge when we were mowing or weeding or mulching.
I really wanted to find a photo of Dave Roldan since we learned all about easements from him. Apparently everyone has an easement. Ah well. Here is another one of our coworkers, Frank Layden.
He eventually became Frank Thomas, and then Pinklon Thomas, and then finally just Pinkelton. Good times.
And finally, the butt of so many arguments I've lost count. He may not have all the intangibles, but when they start keeping stats for intangibles then I can actually call Todd and we can debate Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan. I can't ever look at this damn face without getting angry at Todd.
So Todd, it was small, it was humble, it lacked photos of your smiling mug (does your hair still look good when it's sweaty?) but I meant it all and I hope you have a wonderful birthday up there in the frozen north with your friends and family. I'm thinking of you down here in Dayton. I'll send you a longer email later this week. I never did get you back for that heron and koi remark.
Matt K.
Why am I posting at 3 in the morning? Well, it started with a stomach ache. I didn't want to bug Rudy so I got up for a bit and soon it passed. But then, insomnia caught up with me. I know I have to get some sleep, but it's just not coming. I think Stephanie sent me some insomnia germ in a recent email or something. The worst part is that I'm really just not that tired. At least not now. I suspect that tomorrow will be a long and grueling day at work. Fortunately I've got a lot to do so hopefully that will keep me busy and the day will go by so that I can get home and take the nap that I know my body will be screaming for.
So since I am awake for who knows how long, I thought I would post some of the ultra-awesome photos that Rudy took with her brand new fisheye camera. You can buy them all over the place, just check online and I'm sure you'll find dozens of sellers. They aren't too expensive either, and as you can see from these photographs we had a blast with our very first roll of film. I can hardly wait to see what Rudy turns her eye to next. Our first jaunt was to the nearby air force museum where we hoped to get some strange photographs of the old planes. Unfortunately, it was a bit dim in the hangars and the camera's flash would not travel very far, however Rudy did get some intriguing shots in the bright sunlight. First is some kind of weird monument or sculpture or something to commemorate the killing power of our nation's jets. Yay. But the photograph turned out kind of cool, and we both thought the sun looked awesome. Check it out--
As soon as you walk in to the museum, you are in this brightly lit foyer where there is a preposterously large statue of Icarus. Something about flight, I suppose, although a statue commemorating someone who, because of arrogance, flew too close to the sun and plunged to a horrible death due to his actions seems like a rather strange way to commemorate a museum. In any case, she liked this photograph because what is supposed to be a solemn and magnificent public structure, through the magic of the fisheye lens, stands with its pelvis suggestively thrust forward in a delightfully sexual and perhaps even homoerotic way. It's a little dim, but I'm sure you can see what I mean.
Here is a close-up of our little wooden monkey named Bingo. What is strange about this image is that it was actually taken in the middle of the day, yet it looks like it was taken in a black room. The mysteries and magic of the fisheye lens again!
And now, our favorite two photographs, maybe even of all time. Marvel at what a simple fisheye lens can do! Any photograph suddenly becomes a work of art! First, a photograph I took of my amazing and lovely wife Rudy--
A face the whole world can adore! And last, the best photograph ever taken of me. Honestly. Jesus, look at the size of that nugget!
I can hardly wait to see what she does with the next roll of film. Alright, enough of this. I am going to try and get some sleep. We'll see how successful I am. Wish me luck!
Starburst Ham
I think that what's most shocking is that, for some reason, these things still surprise me. They catch me unaware. And then they go on ahead and do their best to put me in a fairly poor mood. This time, though, I think I might finally have the whole thing licked. Here's the deal.
Way back on January 25 of this year, on this very site, I posted something in a news update about Drawn and Quarterly's announcement that they would be collecting and publishing Tove Jansson's wonderful Moomin strips, available for the first time ever in the United States. That announcement also included a price of $12.95 for the 96 page hardcover and a publication date of September 2006. In fact, I even have some promotional material, including a delightful little poster on nice thick textured paper, with that same date. And these promotional posters were sent out to the comic store where I work some time in August.
Yes, I think you know what's coming don't you?
First, the price has mysteriously jumped by quite a bit, from $12.95 to $19.95. I am very lucky because I have a decent job and I work at a comic store where I get a fantastic discount, so that increase won't affect me too much. Sadly though it will affect an awful lot of other people, especially people who might have been on the fence about whether or not they should pick up the book. When you tack on a 66% increase in the price, an awful lot of readers who might have paid for your book are probably going to spend their money on something else.
But that's not even the worst part. How many of you reading this have heard of a show called SPX, or the Small Press Expo, which takes place in Bethesda, Maryland? Quite a few of you? I'm not surprised. It is a very very well known show. Lots of attendees. Lots of exhibitors. One of the biggest small press shows in the western hemisphere, really. Well this year's SPX is taking place this weekend, October 13 and 14. The organizers of the show, and almost certainly the exhibitors, have known about this date for a long long long time. I would guess that they've known about the October date for nearly a year, give or take a few months. And now we come to the best part of the whole sad affair.
September has, obviously, come and gone. We are now nearly a third of the way into October. And, as you may have guessed, the Moomin book did not ship in September. Nor has it shipped, thus far, in October. Today I discovered that the book will debut at SPX. This weekend. Mid October. And my question, ultimately, is why? No, I am not questioning the decision to debut the book at a large show like this. That makes a great deal of sense. It encourages attendance, it rewards those who make the trip to the show, it generates some buzz about the show, and it will probably sell really well to a lot of excited people. My question to Drawn and Quarterly is why lie repeatedly, month after month after month, telling us that the book will be on sale in September when it seems clear that there was never really any commitment at all to follow any course of action other than to debut the collection at SPX ? That's what really just stuns me. Why not simply state, from the beginning, that Drawn and Quarterly will be collecting and publishing Tove Jansson's beloved Moomin strips, and that the book will debut at SPX in October, to hit store shelves later that month? Seriously. Sales would not suffer at all. The book would still come out, and the same people would buy it. Or, better yet, more people might actually head out to the show just to snag the book there. I really just cannot understand why the deception goes on and on and on. It's not like this is the first time a book was promised only to debut at a small press show well after its initially listed date of publication. These lies seem to be common practice in the comics industry. It must not hurt sales at all and, in fact, probably has the opposite effect. If you want to see the Moomin strips, you pretty much have one choice in the whole universe, and that's to buy it from Drawn and Quarterly so basically you'll get it when they give it to you and that's that.
The most revolting part of this whole fiasco is that, in the end, I will still buy the book. I know that the only way to ever register any kind of unhappiness with a publisher is to not pay cash for their books. But in the end, I want the Moomin book and there's only one way for me to get it. Saddest of all, I'm not even angry anymore. In the past I might have cursed until the air turned blue, but now I really just don't ever expect any book from Drawn and Quarterly or, worse, Fantagraphics to ship anywhere near when it is solicited. I just order them and sit and wait. They'll arrive eventually, I suppose. It's kind of funny, actually, but Fantagraphics also solicited their reprint of E.C. Segar's amazing Thimble Theatre and Popeye strips for an August debut but now guess what? Good guess! The book is debuting at SPX and will be in stores sometime in November.
Here's what I would really like to happen, even more than witnessing the day when a single book ever shipped on time. The amount of time between when Popeye was SUPPOSED to hit the shelves and when it actually WILL hit the shelves is about 2 months. So, I think that when Popeye is finally released in November, Fantagraphics should give me my copy and I will pay them in January, 2 months later. That seems fair enough, right? What, you think I'm joking? I am dead serious about that.
Honestly, it is garbage like this, and the astounding lack of professionalism it shows, that make me want to walk away from comics forever. I know what you're thinking. "You're cutting off your nose to spite your face!" Or "The books will still be good, you shouldn't punish yourself for something this stupid!" Or even "It's not lack of professionalism, there are real honest-to-God printer's delays and layout snags and all sorts of things that can delay a book." Oh yeah? Well, I'd be a hell of a lot more likely to believe those excuses if for once a book actually missed its debut at one of the 3 big small press shows because of a "printer delay." But you know what? That never ever happens. So apparently, these publishers can get a book out on time when they want to. Only when it comes to the person who can't make it to one of those shows, you get a big "Fuck you" and a "second class customer" stamped on your smiling face.
So this is looking like my last go-round. I'm just sick and tired of this garbage, I've already got more books than a small library and I really just don't need any more. Nor do I need the headaches and the constant ass kissing that seems to go hand in hand with some of the above named publishers and their sycophantic entourages. At the very least, I am going to stop writing about anything at all from these two publishers because whenever I do, I become an accomplice to their lies and a part of the whole stupid pointless problem. So you've seen the last of that kind of crap from me. I've got plenty else to write about.
Matt K.
