Road Murals

The inspiration for this cartoon was a childhood memory of a cut-out CHP car that used to be on old Highway 40 somewhere around Pinole, if I remember right. If we can’t have real cops out there, a few of these might help slow the leadfoot drivers down and maybe save a life or two.

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All Eyes On The New Guy

The Official Famous Marching Presidents & First Ladies T-shirt design for their 30th trek down Broad Street come September.

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Half A Carrot

I drew this cartoon sometime shortly before 9/11. It was apparent to me then that there was a growing divide between the American left and right. The chasm between them has only grown since then, to the point where it will be next to impossible to govern the nation as a whole.

Two recent incidents have pushed the envelope towards open rebellion. The alt-right maniac in Portland who killed two men for intervening in his verbal attack on two Muslim women and who now takes every opportunity to vent his hatred at his court hearings and the deranged Bernie supporter who shot Majority Whip Scalise and two of his security detail in Alexandria, Virginia.

Partisan media commentators on both sides are using these atrocities to further the division. We are constantly inundated with reasons why reconciliation is impossible.

Both sides will settle for nothing less than the whole carrot, and both believe their adversaries are on the short list for political extinction. Both have been repeating this fantasy since well before the turn of the century… Just one or two election cycles and it’s all ours! The people will rise up and…yeah, yeah, you’ve heard it all before, I’m sure.

An optimist might imagine that breaking up the country can be done through political means, but the same problems will persist. States themselves will implode as rural districts seek independence from the urban majorities. Natural resources will be coveted by both sides for different reasons.

I feel like a broken record. So many of my cartoons touch on this theme and yet I can’t stop, because to stop is to give up the hope that pragmatic heads on both sides will see that dissolving America is a bad idea. A really bad idea.

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Myc James

It is with a heavy heart that I must report the passing of Myc James. Without going into detail, Myc had been in poor health for the last year or so. His daughter Rachel has been keeping us informed as he went from living independently to hospice care.

I remember meeting a little fat kid named Mike James back in the seventh grade. He was interested in music, as were most of us during the mid-sixties. He knew I was in a band at the time, and wanted to be part of it.

Some of the other guys weren’t so sure. In those days (or even these days) you had to pass the “cool” test, which was funny since all of us were outcast nerds to begin with. He persisted, though, and managed to get his mom to buy him a cheap drum set. That was a big plus in the cool department.

He had a rough childhood, though. After a fight with his older brother, he decided to run away from home. With a handful of friends as accomplices, we piled into an old station wagon and drove him to the Santa Cruz Mountains, telling our parents we were just hanging out at the river.

His exile didn’t last too long, as I remember, but he had broken bones in his hand which made playing drums difficult, so he switched to guitar. He was the front man/lead singer for the local band Absalom.

After that, we drifted apart as I became part of another group of musicians who left the area for Georgia. There was a rivalry between the bands, and sometimes animosity over writing credits and songs.

Eventually, all was forgiven and I would occasionally run into Myc (who had changed his name from Mike) and I even did a few posters for his new group, The American Dance Band. We had a few other adventures along the way.

By the 90’s, Myc became a solo act, and I’m sorry to say I never saw him perform again. Our encounters became more infrequent, although he commented occasionally on this blog under the name Fatty Jimez.

Rachel has started a Go Fund Me account to help defray his final expenses. I’ll post the link in comments.

Farewell, old friend. You’ve left us with your music and your memory. I will never forget.

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Thinking Of Downsizing?

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Watching EPA Director Scott Pruitt dance around the climate question last week was amazing. So much energy expended to say so little…

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A Mystery Wrapped In An Enigma

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Appetite For Appropriation

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That’s Not Funny

Kathy Griffin is a professional entertainer, a comedian by trade. She’s been in show biz for at least twenty years, and you’d think she might have some idea about what is or is not funny.

I know. I’ve made my own share of artistic blunders over the span of a 40+ years career in the funny business and paid a price for it more than once. I’ve done more than a few crude and tasteless examples of blasphemy. We called them “underground comix.”

And that’s the difference. It was a limited audience, clearly marked “for adults only” and sold behind the counter so no poor innocent minor (or their parents) could see them and demand that I be put to sleep and buried in an unmarked grave. I sure didn’t show them to mom and dad.

In the age of instant images, that’s a little harder to control. If you watch the video, Griffin clearly knows that what she is doing will piss people off. (We’ll have to move to Mexico!) I’m sure she realized the thing would go viral as soon as she hit the enter key. Any adult with half a brain knows that a threat, even an obvious parody of a threat, to a President Of The Divided States will earn you a visit from the Men in Black, and I’m not talking about Tommy Lee Jones.

Of course there’s a double standard. Numerous news sites have pointed out that has-been rocker Ted Nugent made several off-the -wall threats to Barack Obama, and he’s now a welcome guest at the White House. And remember the rodeo clown who got fired for just wearing an Obama mask while being chased by savage bulls?

Life isn’t fair.

I think where Griffin crossed the line was the amount of blood in the photo. In my crude rendering above, the image is far less threatening to the senses without any gore. She might have only incurred the wrath of half as many rednecks with just the dummy’s head. Anderson Cooper would have slapped her hand, and she’d still have her New Year’s gig.

Now She’s hired a lawyer and claims Clan Trump is out to ruin her life. I think they have their hands full trying to ruin the country, and the world if possible.  On the other hand, Kathy’s had a hit TV series, sixteen TV specials, six albums, won two emmys and a grammy. After all that, I think she’ll find a job somewhere.

Get over it, Kathy. Don’t give in to the assholes.  Lick your wounds and start over. America is always ready for a second or third or fourth act.

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Time’s A’wastin’

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