Friday, August 15, 2025

You'll Find it Here

 Welcome to Reelfoot Lake

There is a place in northwest Tennessee, just south of the Kentucky border, where I used to love going as a child. My father and I would stay in a rented cabin on Reelfoot Lake and it's some of my fondest childhood memories. There isn't any place in the world like it and the neighboring towns were tiny Tiptonville and Union City, no more than dots on any map.

Spenser's

Every year, on our drive up from Memphis, we'd stop at Spencer's Groceries, just inside Tiptonville, to get a few supplies, like food, drinks, or some worms, before we moved on to our cabin on the lake. Spencer's Groceries was a very small store, not much more than the old general stores one would see in TV westerns, and it only held the bare essentials; nothing fancy. 

Mr. Spencer was not just the owner, but he was also the only cashier, and he didn't even have a cash register. Instead, he used an adding machine, the kind with the mechanical handle he'd have to pull to get sub-totals and finally the total. 

Everyone's Favorite

Spencer's groceries was every local's favorite place to shop for groceries and even though Mr. Spencer was never what most would consider a huge success, he had a profitable business, everyone in Tiptonville shopped there, he served his customers well, and he was very happy with it. 

The Newcomers

Not only did all the locals shop there, but it was also the first place newcomers would go to for supplies or directions. There is a story that one day a stranger arrived at the store and walked up to Mr. Spencer, who was working on the books behind his adding machine.

"Excuse me sir, ", said the visitor, "but I just got transferred here and I'll be your new neighbor, and I was just wondering, what kind of people there are that live here."

Mr. Spencer looked up from his books, over his glasses and asked, "What kind of people were they where you come from?"

The gentleman said, "Oh, they were the friendliest people you'd ever want to know. They were a hardworking and thrifty bunch who'd give you the shirt of their back if you needed it."

"Well,", said Mr. Spencer, with a smile, "that'll be the kind of people you'll find here also."

The gentleman got his supplies and left.

On a different day, another gentleman came into the store while Mr. Spencer was pricing and stocking canned beans onto the shelf and the stranger approached him.

"Excuse me sir," the stranger said, "I was just transferred to Tiptonville, so I'll be living here. What kind of people would you say are here?"

"What kind of people were they where you're moving from?" asked Mr. Spencer.

"Oh, they were terrible. They were hard to get along with, always so rude and unwilling to help with anything." said the stranger. "They were unfriendly and never said hello and so lazy."

"Well," said Mr. Spencer, "I imagine that's the kind of people you'll find here in Tiptonville." 

The man left in a huff as Mr. Spencer finished his task and preceded towards his adding machine, to wait for the next customer.

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

The Plains, the Mountains and San Diego

 What's the opposite of success? 

Most people would say the opposite of success is failure, but consider this. Success isn't possible without failure as they are two sides of the same coin; book ends if you will, so even though success may be on the opposite end of the failure spectrum it isn't the opposite of the experience of success. The real opposite of true success is mediocrity.

Webster defines mediocrity:

"of only moderate quality; not very good"

Mediocrity is doing just enough to get by; adequate but nothing more. It's just enough to pay the bills and keep gas in the car and not much else.

South Dakota

I drove through South Dakota a long time ago and it was the flattest place I'd ever seen. I drove from one end of the state to the other and the only thing higher than the land around me was my car. I felt like if I stood on the eastern border of the state, I could look west and see the whole state, all the way to the western border, without interruption. 

Montana

But then, after driving for a few hours, I ended up in Montana which is the opposite of South Dakota with gigantic mountains that seemed to never end. The views were indescribable. I felt like I wouldn't have appreciated the magnificence of the mountains if I had not first been through the featureless plains of S. Dakota. 

Someone once said, a person can never know how beautiful it is on the mountain top unless they've been in the deepest valley. If there were no valleys, there would be no mountains. If there was no bad, there would be no good. If there were no failure, there would be no success. 

Go Ahead and Vomit

One more story. As a young recruit in San Diego, our drill instructors had us understand in their own colorful manners, that during the brutal training we were undergoing, we were going to pass out from exhaustion, vomit from the heat, pull muscles, get bruised, bloodied and blistered. 

"So what?", they said. "When you get through vomiting or when you regain consciousness, just pick up where you left off and finish." 

You can't have success without failure even if it means vomiting your guts out.

Friday, July 25, 2025

Joleen is Having a Bad Day






When I showed this particular gag to some people, they asked "who is she talking to?". 

Fair question, but my intention was to make it appear as if Joleen were talking to someone off-screen like a husband or a friend. 

Yes, I know before I put this to publication in another book, I should make modifications, but I think it brings to mind something totally unrelated to the joke itself. The fact is, most of the people who I showed it to, initially, knew that Joleen was talking to someone not pictured until I asked, "Does it look like she's talking to an invisible man?". 

"Oh, yeah, maybe, now that you mention it." some people answered.

Afterwards, I began formulating the theory that most people don't notice imperfections until someone points them out. I experience this many, many times in my profession. When I see the mistakes and faults and imperfections in things I draw (or anything else for that matter) others do not. So, I thank them for the compliments and move on to the next drawing, without bringing to their attention, the flaws. 


Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Garnish, Steak Dinners and Windows


 

Garnish doesn't make the steak taste better. 

What does that mean? I think to understand it better, it may help to define what garnish means.

Garnish: To decorate or embellish, especially related to food.

If a restaurant garnishes a steak dinner by putting a sprig of parsley on the plate, it's for appearances only and has nothing to do with the way the food tastes. The way the steak tastes has to do with the cut of meat, the way it was prepared, and how it was cooked, which has everything to do with the chef. 

But it looks so good

In the mind of the person eating the meal, the appearance of garnish next to the steak may give him the impression that it tastes better but even in that case, if the steak sucks, he will not likely order it again (or may never return to the restaurant) regardless of how green the sprig of parsley is sitting next to it. In fact, I've had steaks so tough and bland, I left most of the steak and ate the parsley instead.  

In my particular line of work, if I had pretty drawing paper and fancy pens, but wasn't skilled at drawing, I wouldn't be in business very long. As a window cleaner, I can have a nice uniform, new equipment and a fancy ladder, but if I don't get the windows clean, I'll not receive return calls or have any more customers. 

So, in conclusion, maybe it means to be wary of outward appearances. What does the work say?


Wednesday, July 2, 2025

Not Playing by the Same Rules

 

A lion, feeling majestic one hot afternoon, was sauntering through the jungle when he happened upon a hyena and the lion rumbled,

“Who’s the mightiest of the forest?”

“You are” said the hyena, meekly.

“Thats right”, declared the lion who walked away smugly.

He then approached a zebra, gazed at him and said again,

“Who’s the mightiest of the forest?”

The zebra fearfully said, “You are.”

“That’s right”, said the lion as he resumed his walk. He then saw a huge elephant feeding on the cool, tasty leaves located high in an Acacia tree and with self-assurance the lion said to him,

“Who’s the mightiest of the forest?”

At that the great elephant peered at him with his black eyes over his massive trunk, reached out, gripped the lion and pounded him on the ground with great force several times. He then held him down while he stomped him into the dirt repeatedly with his massive foot and finally the mastodon kicked him 20 feet into the rigid trunk of the Acacia tree where the lion fell to the ground, dazed.

Finally, after regaining his senses, the lion looked up through his battered face a said, wearily “he just doesn’t understand. He just doesn't understand.”

Sunday, June 29, 2025

Get Off My Lawn!


I am more and more convinced, as I read (and as I age) online articles, blogs, social media posts or whatever you want to call them, that these lists and advice the so called authorities post, giving the reader the impression they are experts on certain subjects, are simply wannabes and blowhards trying to impress and get more clicks. For the most part, I must admit, they succeed in that respect, regardless of how faulty and baseless their claims. It goes to show, historically, how much more convincing an argument is when it is in print. If a person just says something, it is percieved as less authoritative than something that is printed, be it on paper or digital. 

Recently, I read an online post about habits of baby-boomers that millennials find annoying and I found it amusing that, being a proud  member of the boomer generation myself, (1945-1965) I discovered my millennial offspring are more guilty of themselves. The list was 15 bullet points long and if anyone bothers to read this post, I wont bore you with all 15, most of which were erroneous anyway, but I want to address a few mentionables.

Things boomers do that millennials find annoying and my rebuttle:

1. Boomers showing up at a home unannounced-
Personally, me and my fellow boomers have always instilled in our kids good manners, good behaviour and how improper it is to arrive at someones house without first calling for approval. My wife and I would never consider arriving somewhere unannounced and we urge our own, now adult kids, "call first before coming over". 

2. Boomers eating at chain restaurants-
What? First of all, there are hundreds of chain restaurants in any relatively small area, so the chances of anyone eating at a chain restaurant, no matter what their generation, is very good. 

Another argument about this laughable argument, is how our own millennial kids eat at chain restaurants several times a week; Olive Garden, Applebees, Chile's and their most frequented chains, pizza and fast food.

Also, our fellow boomers and I know not only how overpriced restaurant food is but also how it includes toxic amounts of salt and artificial flavors that would kill even cockroaches. On the contrary, we love eating at private, family owned restaurants and we activly seek them when the time comes to eat out.

3. Boomers dismissing younger generations-
The very subject of the article was millennials dismissing boomers so claiming the inverse,  boomers dismissing younger people, is self incriminating. 

4. Boomers playing slot machines-
This one is also funny and random for two reasons because 1) not only have I never played slot machines in my life but I've never known anyone who played slot machines.

 2) if boomers playing slot machines is so annoying to millennials, it might be an indication that they, the millenials themselves, are spending inordinate amounts of time in casinos. Maybe they have gamblers anonymous on there contacts list.

5. Boomers think millennials are still children-
Another funny one. I say this because the opposite is true. It isn’t us who think our "kids" are still children, it is they who think they are still children. They love to call us everytime they have a slight problem and they are more than happy to whine to us about every little thing. "Mom, I dont feel good today", or "Dad, could I have some money?" 

The other funny thing about this claim is how they whimper to us about every little problem they have, but when we give them suggestions on how to maybe do things differently the answer is "don't tell me how to live my life" or "stay out of my business".

There are also the times when they rely on us as a sounding board and then blame us for their problems because we were bad parents. It's all so unjustifiably ironic, and also comical but I admit, I love comedy.

6. Boomers complain about neighbors-
This one is also ironic because we are friends with most of our neighbors and rarely take issue with them. Even my elderly mother speaks highly and sweetly about her neighbors. As we age, our generation has learned the value of good neighbors and who knows, we may need them one day and vice-versa.

To the contrary, our kids often tell us about the ongoing Peyton Place (a boomer reference) drama going on between them and their neighbors; young parents vs other young parents pitting their children against each other.

And finally...

7. Boomers make everything political-
Again, I must say, my wife and I know the importance of avoiding certain subjects with our millennial kids, namely politics and religion. I, myself, avoid the subject with anyone, all together. 

Additionally, it is they who broach the political line most of the time and it is they who become quite offended and indignant when we don't subscribe to their political stance.

In summary-
So, as I said earlier, the nature of print tends to convince one of the inerrant qualities of the info it espouses, but its viability is obviously not so.

In support of my fellow baby boomers, we are offspring of The Greatest Generation and our accomplishments are steller. Our generation turned America into a world leader, pioneered the American space program, landed on the moon, ended the cold war, invented the internet and the cell phone, invented the artificial heart, DNA identification, broke the four minute mile, climbed Mount Everest, and too many other things to mention that paved the way for the millennials. 





Thursday, June 12, 2025

A Contended Fisherman

 

The Fisherman and the Businessman

A gratified fisherman whose name was Jaime, lived in a modest town on the Baja Peninsula in Mexico, and every morning he would push his small, one-man boat into the calm, Pacific waters, and row a couple of hundred yards into Gonzaga Bay, and using a simple cane pole, would catch a few fish. After a while, happy with his catch, he would calmly row back to shore, stow his boat, and stroll home, humming a simple tune, to share his quarry with his family and he was a very contented man.

One day, a vacationing, successful, American, businessman, walking along the beach, spotted Jaime and interested in him, asked about his routine.

“You know,” said the American, “if you spent a couple of more hours fishing, you could sell your catch to the market.”

“Why do that?” asked Jaime.

“Well, then you would make more money and save up to buy a bigger boat with a net.”

“Then what?”

“Then you could sell more fish to more markets and make lots more money.”

“Then what?”

“Then you could buy more boats", the American continued, "hire more people, catch more fish and start your own cannery.”

“Then what?”

“Then you could export canned fish to markets all over the world including America, Asia, Europe.”

“Then what?”

“Why, then you would be a successful businessman and finally you could sell your cannery for many millions of dollars.”

“Then what?”

“Then you could retire a wealthy man and do whatever you wanted to do”, concluded the American.

“Hmm,” said Jaime while rubbing his unshaven chin in thoughtfulness. 

Finally, he said, “But I’m already doing what I want to do now.” He then gathered his pole and string of fish and began his way home, humming a simple tune because he was a very contented man.

Sunday, June 1, 2025

The Reluctant Artist


I often get comments while drawing cartoons at events that go something like, "You have a real gift for drawing" or "I wish I could draw like you, but it has to be a natural talent". 

I always thank them for their kind words but they're very wrong. I'm not gifted nor naturally talented, not by any stretch of the imagination. 

In an unrelated incident...

Ludwig von Beethoven had just finished a performance of one of his own compositions and was surrounded by a crowd of his many admirers. Each person was generous with the outpourings of praise and admiration in the direction of the famous composer. 

One woman gushed "If only God had given me such a gift of genius." to which Beethoven turned an unfriendly look in her direction and said coldly, "It isn't genius, madame. Neither is it magic. You can be as good as I. All you have to do is practice on your piano every day, eight hours a day for forty years."

Mad Magazine was my preferred literature of choice

It may be odd for many people to hear this, but I never had an ambition to be a caricature artist. It has never crossed my mind in all the years prior to finding it to be a profitable venture. At the same time, no one should make the mistake of thinking I didn't like drawing and making my own gags since childhood, but it was somewhat of a personal thing that I kept mostly to myself. 

A hungry Pauper

However, the possibility of drawing caricatures of others, live and in public, with dozens of people watching me do so, was the certainly not on my list of things I wanted to do. Without going too deeply into it, I decided to give it a try only when unemployment compelled me to do so. 

It didn't just come to me, though. It's taken many thousands of tries to get to the point where the public will pay for it. I sometimes tell people after receiving their gracious comments about my "natural gift" that it's no gift. It's lots and lots of practice.

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

I Must Confess

 I'm a veteran of the U.S. Marines and I'm very proud to have served and honored to have been chosen as a Marine. The times, good and bad, were unforgettable and the victories and failures I experienced were monumental.  I love the men I served with, and we developed bonds that were among the strongest possible.

You can take the man out 

of the Marines but...

Can you take the Marines 

out of the man?

Even after being honorably discharged, I was so attached to those days that they became spectacles through which everything I experienced was filtered. It was as though I was still living as a Marine many years afterwards and I didn't want to betray that perceived loyalty. I thought that by not remembering and honoring my days of service in everything I did as a civilian, I was somehow being disloyal to the U.S. Marines and to the men with whom I served. We kept in touch by social media, and I committed to a reunion I could scarcely afford to attend and was consumed with keeping in good standing with them. 

I ain't alone

Many veterans do so, and it is like being frozen in time and worst of all it's paralyzing to one's mindset as it was to mine. It's as though an anchor and chain were attached to my ankle and has prevented me from making any real progress. It affected my decisions, my opinions, my work, my business, my marriage, my family, my friendships, everything. As I aged and the distance between the present and the past grew, the anchor became bigger and heavier with each passing year. It kept me worse than a failure. 

It kept me mediocre. 

But then, one day recently, I was hit with what seemed like a cold bucket of water when, through a series of revealing circumstances, I realized these men with whom I served, and the U.S. Marines, have nothing to do with me presently. The VA facilities I've been a part of for years are full of men living mediocre lives at best, and some on the verge of suicide because they have chosen to come under the dominion of ghosts from their past. Even though I never saw myself as one of those poor souls, I see now I was one of them, chained to events of long ago that I have allowed to taint everything I came into contact with. 

Where were they?

But now I realize the men I served with didn't go to my wedding, they weren't present at the birth of my children, weren't there to console me when my father died, nor have they been with me at any other time in my life. In fact, they show very little interest in what I do, and I must admit, I feel the same way about them. 

All of me

But there are others in my life now, today, who have been with me through those times, and it is they who deserve to have all of me. They are the ones who want all of me. Those are the ones where my loyalties should lie. 

As I mentioned, my unit has reunions from time to time and for me to attend would be an unjustifiable expense and anyway, all it amounts to is a bunch of us getting drunk and talking about old times. These men I had little in common with then and the same is true now. 

Yes, my time as Marine was truly special and unforgettable, even unmentionable, but it doesn't define me. It's only one ingredient in what makes me who I am and there were many other adventures that also make me who I am, but I am not chained to a single event or time period. Trying to flavor my meal with one ingredient makes for a bad dish.

I have finally broken loose from the anchor and said, 

"Men, I love you and I'll never forget you or those times, but it's long overdue for me to move on." 

Oh, I'll still wear Marine hats and T-shirts with documents, awards and photos on my wall and desk, but no longer will they dominate the space, and they are accompanied by photos and memorabilia of other unforgettable people and events in my life.

"Maybe we'll see each other again in the future, men, but good-bye, for now. "


Friday, April 25, 2025

Spring in Spring


Spring Fling in Spring in the Spring

On Thursday I had a job at Hewlett Packard in Spring Texas for there annual spring fling complete with a live band, games, and plenty of food. I've always said the hardest part of my job is smelling the delicious food catered at these events. I'm always invited to fix a plate for myself but who has time when I have a line of people waiting to get made fun of with pen and ink. 


This was an event for only the employees so there were no kids (and since I'm on the subject), I prefer an all adult clientele. I also find it interesting that the "adults" sometimes act more like children than the real children do. 


For example, I was there with two other artists and, needless to say, we all have different styles of drawing, and some artistic styles, being a subjective endeavor, are preferred by the client. The artist next to me drew more in a portrait style so a lady wanted to be drawn by him and not me, but as circumstances would have it, she ended up sitting in my hot seat, and I must confess, I really let her have it with my exaggerations. 

The styles of different artists are often striking. I mentioned my constituent to my left draws in more of a portrait style, still a caricature, but the exaggerations are mild whereas my style is more bold and I often discover at least two types of customers. One may be the type that is easy going with a healthy sense of humor knowing a caricature is supposed to be funny looking. The other type wants a drawing that makes them look like a cute, Disney-ish, cartoon, which isn't my style. So sorry.

I do drawings on an individual basis and to see more examples or order one of your own click here.







Monday, April 21, 2025

The Dark Side of Sunday Morning


Things losers say

  • I hate Mondays.
  • It's not my job.
  • I'll do it tomorrow.
  • It's okay if I'm late.
  • I can't afford it.
  • It's too hard.
  • It's not my fault.
  • It's not fair.
  • I'm too tired.
  • I love weekends.
It may seem strange to think "I love weekends" is something losers say, and seems out of place, but putting emphasis on the weekend, detracts from the other days of the week and is a kind of backdoor way of saying, "I hate Mondays".  Maybe you really do like Saturday, because that's when you get to do things that you don't do any during the week but isn't that true of any day of the week? There are things I do on Wednesday that I would not dare do on Sunday.

"To whom much is given, much is required."

When we receive blessings and responsibilities, we are called to a higher standard of accountability, and accepting responsibility is a blood tenet of people in a position of leadership or influence. The words we use reflect our thoughts and attitudes and I often imagine what the students in my drawing classes would think of me if I told them "Drawing is too hard" or if I told a client of mine "it's okay if I'm late". 


My leaders in the Marines Corps (at least the good ones) drilled into our psyche at every opportunity...

"Your mindset is your greatest weapon".

It didn't matter how well trained we were, how fit, energetic, well fed, or well-armed we were. Winning or losing battles begins and ends between the ears. The same is true no matter what we do, whether we're Marines or not. 

If words are a reflection of our mindset, then it stands to reason that changing our words also changes our minds, then naturally our circumstances change.
  • I'll make this a good week.
  • How can I do this better?
  • It's important to be on time.
  • How can I afford this?
  • I want to learn how to do this.
  • How can I help?
  • I'll try again.

Friday, March 28, 2025

I'm Not a Tree

 


Why do I do my own cooking, grind my own coffee beans and bake my own bread? Why do I have a business of my own and write my own books? It has something to do with creating my own environment; one that I can not only have better control of but also one that suits me better than others can. I don’t want to live in someone else’s realm. I want to live in my own.

I was created in God’s image, in his likeness and God is creative and orderly. He has given me the ability to be the same, and it’s already in me, in my possession. I don’t have to ask for it.

When I was young, everything was new to me, and I savored the uniqueness of everything. Life was a learning experience, fresh and original but as I aged, I noticed how new things slowly began to grow further and further apart. I began hearing the same stories repeated like so many re-runs of old TV programs. There's nothing new under the sun and often, I discovered, people tend to repeat common knowledge as if it’s new information.

As time goes by, it’s not unusual for adults to grow complacent and even depressed from being bored from many days being a duplicate of the day before. Being in business for myself allows me to learn new things about earning money I would not have otherwise known. Someone also said, in fact I think it was me, “when I want to read a good book, I’ll write one”, so the same goes for the learning experience of drawing and writing which are never ending learning experiences.

I’ve also been known to say, “my favorite food is my own”. Learning to cook delicious food is also a learning experience as well as the proper grind of coffee beans for certain applications and the different flavors of coffee from around the world.

I make my own bread because not only is it better tasting than the stuff supermarkets and giant bakeries churn out, but also for how therapeutic it can be. It takes patience and experience to learn how to make the perfect loaf of bread. I love making plum pudding and it’s become a Christmas tradition for my family.

Jeffery Gitomer’s book, The Little Red Book of Selling, and in many other books, as well as some of the world’s greatest minds, touts creating an environment conducive to my life’s objectives and intentions. If I don’t like the way things are then I can change it. I can change where I live, who my friends are, my job, my attitude, my philosophy, my health, my relationships. As I age it becomes more important to me.

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

The Professional Loafer

 

                          

They say if you chase two rabbits, you'll lose both. It's also been said to do one thing and do it better than anybody. There is also the school of thought that the best way to earn money is by diversified income and to do more than one thing. So, who's right? 

Is it possible to do one main thing and have side gigs like a job or is it recommended to have just one thing but use it in different ways?

My late mentor once said we must answer "yes" to three things to have true success at something:

  1. Can you make money doing it?
  2. Are you good at it?
  3. Do you like doing it?
The first thing that has be considered, and is of paramount importance is that a person must make money. Without it then there is no need to continue reading the rest of this article. I'm not talking about a hobby or something to do in my spare time, but is there a way to earn money doing what I'm doing or doing what I want to do?

Second, am I good at it? I once knew someone who wanted to be a professional skateboarder and even though I was horrified at the prospect of such a career, I enquired at the potential of earning money doing it. I must admit, with reservations, there was the outside chance that money could be earned at it and after reluctantly checking off the first box, I asked if he was good at riding a skateboard. Even though he thought he was a talented rider, and to his credit, he practiced often, even at the sacrifice of schoolwork, I discovered he wasn't very good at riding a skateboard. He could ride one, to be sure, but he didn't have the skills to do so professionally. Not by a long shot. 

Unfortunately, I couldn't check the second box. He didn't follow the formula for a successful career as a skateboarder.

The third thing is liking what you do. I knew a guy who was an accountant and got paid decent money for it but didn't like doing it. As a result, he never rose above the mediocre level.

I had to honestly assess myself about my career endeavors in  drawing. I've gotten so much heat over the years about how there "just isn't enough money in drawing" to make a decent living at it, but I proved that theory wrong years ago. 

I'm pretty good at it and I like doing it, especially compared to the other lax jobs I've tried. So, guess what? All the boxes are checked.

My next endeavor is how to diversify drawing?

Why Are You Doing This?



                         

Indoctrinated

 I've Often written in the past and published in Shut Up Draw and What's Your Tomato, stories of how my childhood and early adulthood was overly influenced by the opinions and expectations of those closest to me and societal norms in general. 

"Drawing is nice" I was told  "but you have to have a real career."

"You can't make any money with that."

"You got to work to make your boss happy."

The mantras and opinions are still ringing in my ears and in fact, those bits of "helpful" advice perpetually, even today, find their way back around to me. 

As a young person I accepted this indoctrination as the truth and I told myself, 

"All these people can't be wrong"

It's true that when it came to my family members, they did want the best for me. Well, in many ways, but as far as the clamor of the rest, little did I know, they did not want the best for me. All they wanted was to be right because misery loves company. 

As far as my family was concerned, all they've known was working to earn a living and that's all that was important. No one said I had to like my job because the important thing was to just do it and please the boss. I respect that philosophy as long people decide they have little else to contribute, but as a kid, all I heard from my father was how he hated his job, and he complained about it often. 

Being raised by a single mom, I was alone a great deal of the time, left very much on my own for hours each day without supervision, guidance or the discipline a growing boy needs because Mom was working so much just trying to keep us fed and housed. 

Was that a great way to demonstrate to a child that having a job was the best way to go? 

The ones with whom I've crossed paths who saw the way, before I ever did, who either purposely or incidentally verbalized it, are the ones I would have benefited from listening to. People like my closest friends, girlfriends, my instructors from college or my coworkers in the meager jobs with which we all suffered.

"Why are you doing this?" I was often asked when they saw how my talents lie somewhere other than punching a time clock at 6 am and working 12 hours a day, 6 days a week.

My answer had the mediocre stamp of approval on it. 

"Because I have bills to pay"

So, I continued doing the "same old same old" and my dissatisfaction slid into destructive thoughts like anger, sorrow, self-loathing which then manifested into behaviors like putting the needs of others before my own even at my own detriment. It also lead to depression and melancholy. My sincere unhappiness and perpetual lack of sufficient income did not support the notion put forward by others that my purpose in life was to get a job and make my boss happy.  

They told me it would be better than this

Things are changing and it took long enough. Even though I've come to the conclusion that the popular narrative is wrong, I've still not realized the income but at least it's no worse than before. I still have my doubts. The echoes of my early days still resound, and they have never really gone away. "What if I've made a huge mistake?" I often ask myself. 

"What if I'm wrong and 

all those others were right?"

I've proven to myself that it isn't necessary to earn a living by "pleasing the boss". Isn't it ironic that the very suggestion I was given as a young person was actually the worst I could have possibly been given because my record of "pleasing the boss" has been dismal, to put it nicely. 



Friday, February 7, 2025

Did You Say You'e an Artist?


You Can't Make Any Money Doing That

Of course, I’ve been drawing since childhood, as all children do, but as I grew older, my interest in drawing stuck with me when most of my friends went on to pursue other interests and careers. A problem with an occupation in art arose, however, because I was indoctrinated as a youth to believe that a person couldn’t make a decent living in art and unfortunately, I believed it. So, for most of my adulthood, my work life was a lesson in how miserable I could be with doing things I hated doing. Instead of succeeding at a career, I always wanted to find an escape from it and drawing was a way to do that accompanied with desires about earning a living with it.

Better Than Average

Getting fired isn’t the end of the world. Statistics show that a person gets fired an average of twice during their working career. I’ve got that beat. I’ve been fired four times and on one of those occasions in the late 90’s, it led to  inconsistencies in the philosophy about not being able to make any decent money as an artist because over the years, thanks to the internet, I grew to discover countless artists who earn a living drawing caricatures. They get hired to attend a party or other event, set up a drawing table, bring pens and paper and start drawing people in cartoon form.

The Four-Hour Workweek

I knew I could do that too, and I decided it would be a great part-time job for extra money. Little did I know at the time that this “extra money” often turned out to pay more in 3 or 4 hours of drawing than my weekly paycheck at my regular crappy job in 40 or more hours.

I started by renting a space at Traders Village, a large flea market in Houston, and with my drawing table and supplies in tow, I set up in a small and empty 10’ x 5’ space and began drawing shoppers for $5 a head. The price soon went to $10 for black and white and $20 for color. Who said there was no money in art?

The Green Cow

That’s how I started using caricature drawing as my cash cow and this allowed me to discover other ways that drawing as a career and not just a hobby. For me it’s never been a hobby but a pursuit.

Now, it’s to the point that my cartooning is my main source of income and still growing. Not bad for a kid who was programmed to believe an artist can’t earn money.


Friday, January 31, 2025

Riding Busses in Finland

 


The Helsinki Bus Station

Arno Minkkinen is a Finnish photographer who uses an illustration called The Helsinki Bus Station to describe the creative process over time. The way someone finds distinctiveness in their art form is like buses leaving a station.

When the buses initially embark, they all follow the same route and it’s likely that some even make the same stops. After several stops the buses then begin to diverge as they follow different roads the further away they get from the departure point.

Stay on the Bus

A creative person who may be pursuing an endeavor like drawing, may initially determine his work is rather common and unoriginal, so he may decide to return to the “bus station” and start all over again only to discover the process repeats itself. The solution is to stay on the bus. It eventually follows a different course from the others.

Pursue an art (or other endeavor) that looks much the same as everyone else’s initially but, soon, you’ll develop your own style.

Tuesday, January 28, 2025

Something Good to Read

Nothing New

 Now-a-days many profess to have discovered journaling; a "new" trend, a vouge way of "manifesting" and it's the rage of news segments, talk shows, books, memes, social media personalities and self-improvement gurus. The fact is journaling or keeping a diary has been a common practice of people for thousands of years by the famous, infamous, successful and the not-so-successful.

  • People have documented their lives on clay tablets in the bronze age.
  • Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius in 167 A.D. wrote his thoughts in a 12-book journal collection called Things to One's Self. 
  • One of the most famous and widely Read diaries was kept by Ann Frank and became a famous work of literature.

I not only keep a journal myself (actually several) but have been doing so since I was in my 20's.  As a Marine I found it quite useful as a way to record the many adventures I experienced on deployments and a few other escapades were thrown in as well. My first go at it was written on a paper plate in the high desert of California while training for desert warfare and the practice stuck with me for the last 40 or so years. There is hardly a period in my life when I didn’t keep a diary.

An alter ego

One reason is because it’s intensely therapeutic. It’s like talking not to myself but to someone who really listens and understands what I’m going through whether good or bad. Often, I have a tangle of ideas and thoughts in my head, much like a cluttered desk, and getting those deliberations out of my head and onto paper cleans things up and helps organize my notions. It’s as if while I’m writing, a second, unseen person appears and joins in to respond in the discussion and helps me determine if what I’m thinking is suitable and if not, I find other solutions.

Crystal Clear

Whenever I write it helps me clarify my thinking or emotions and crystallizes my imagination. They become no longer just a vague impulse but genuine visuals I can see in the form of words.

Writing helps me to reason my way through decision making by allowing me to see more clearly the possible results of my actions.

Of course, keeping a journal is good practice as a writer as long as I seek to improve and be better at it.

                           I Can’t Write Just One

I have several journals of all kinds and sizes, each for a different application including handwritten ones, a digital journal, a bullet journal and of course a slew of sketch journals. Each one of my drawings has the date on them and they help remind me about the time I drew, why and what I was thinking. It’s a funny thing about a sketch or drawing; it helps me remember the smallest details of an event and can take me on a voyage revisiting the experience. Remember the old saying, "one picture is worth a thousand words".

I have a small pocket size notebook and pen I almost always have in my possession for those unexpected moments of inspiration. I also have a very large journal I use for long term drawing and writing.

Know Me Better, Boy!

Another important reason for journaling, at least important to me, is for posterity; a legacy. I have members of my family who are today very young and may not have a chance to know me well and if they are so inclined in the future, they can get to know me better even if I'm not around.

I Write Because I always want something good to read

I sometimes, well, often, I find conversations with others regularly leave me aloof and sometimes outright bored, but the journal is always stimulating and thought-provoking. It hearkens back to the feeling of having a conversation with a second person. I talk about what’s on my mind and the listening page always answers back.


Tuesday, January 7, 2025

I'm Not Deranged. I'm an Introvert.

 


I don't need to see a psychiatrist to cure my introversion. People tend to say to introverts, 

      "Why don't you talk more? Why are you so quiet?" 

and many times, I hear,

                      "You need to come out of your shell."

I find those remarks rather off-putting and even insulting because it's an indirect way of saying, "your personality sucks and you need to change". 

It would be no different than me telling an extrovert "Why don't you shut up? You talk too much." and- 

"You need to crawl into a shell".

The fact is, being an introvert isn't a personality flaw for which I need to seek therapy any more than an extrovert needs to seek mental treatment for his or her personality (though sometimes I think some should). 

Extroverts talk to think, and introverts think to talk. 

I've always been a reflective person and most often through my life, from childhood till now, I've been the quietest one in the room. I tend more to listen to the others in the group and get amused about how so many think their input is more valuable than anyone else's. People often say dumb things, and it makes great material for my cartoons. 

A better question might be, are cartoonists great introverts or are introverts great cartoonists?