No One Wins in a Parrot War

The Candler Art Festival was one of the weirder shows...

I do free robot and monster drawings at these shows, and was hunched over my easel working on a robot who is ashamed of his one tiny claw, when I heard a brief but savage dog noise. Somewhere between a bark, a growl, and a Kodiak Bear. It was over as soon as it started, and I never looked up. People bring tons of dogs to these festivals, and it's not surprising to hear the occasional "HAY, OTHER DOG! YOU'RE TOO CLOSE! I DON'T LIKE THAT!" type bark.

After a while, I was taking a break when Allen asked if I'd seen the dog skirmish. I dismissed her with a "Yeah, yeah, I heard it." She told me one dog had suddenly just jumped all over a nice older dog for no reason. Yep, yep.. that's what it sounded like. I thought about a better way to hang paintings on the walls of the tent. "And the guy who had the mean dog? He just kept on walking. He didn't stop and
apologize, he just walked off with his dog as if nothing had happened."
"Oh yeah... that sucks." I was using nails on the back, to get them to hand on the
netting. Maybe I could get some plastic hooks?
"And then, right in front of the health food booth, somebody called out, "Hey lady, your
dog's missing an ear!" Allen told me.
Or, I could just put some Velcro on them or something. Nod, nod. "There was a crowd of people looking for the ear, but they couldn't find it. There was blood everyplace."
Wait, what? "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

Apparently, they never did find the ear. I'm sure the health food booth attendants were horrified. None of the lentil soups or pirate booty really went well with Dog ear, or any of the blood that had splashed all over, or their spinning "Wheel of Health Food" display. "Oh that? Why, that's just beet juice! With some.. pieces of.. WAIT COME BACK! TECHNICALLY CARTILAGE ISN'T MEAT!"


So, after missing that event, I felt pretty gypped. I went for a walk to see if I could find any more "NO HOLDS BARRED" festival events. Before long, I noticed that the older guy walking in front of me had a bird on his shoulder. The bird was letting out loud chirps every few seconds. I had never actually seen a person
attempt to take a bird out anyplace like that, and it was a pretty exciting sight. Probably not quite as exciting as hearing the words "Hey lady, you're dog's missing an ear!" but in my mind it was, because I was trying to compensate.

I started imagining what the bird-guy must be like. He's probably this kindly grandfather character. He must be an animal lover, because he carries his beloved bird with him everywhere. I also surmised that he had lots of patience, because people must ask him the same questions wherever he goes: "What kind of bird is that? Does he bite? Do you take him with you everywhere? How did you train him to do that?" All these questions would be answered with a wink and a smile, as if it were the first time anyone had ever asked him. Maybe the bird talked, as well as chirped. Maybe he taught it?

If I had a bird that could talk, I would spend hours training him to say things like "Seventeen paces from Taco Mac, then DIG!" then I would glare at him and hiss "SHUT UP! YOU'VE SAID TOO MUCH ALREADY!!!"

Eventually, I noticed that a small group of ten year old girls were blocking his path. They were crowding around the funnel cake they were sharing, and not paying attention to whether they were blocking traffic or not because little kids never think of things like that. Kids think things like, "Oh man... I love this funnel cake so much. I hope one day I marry someone who makes funnel cake EVERY DAY!"

Bird guy stopped in front of the girls. This was going to be cute. They were going to ask the bird's name, and he would do a little animal demonstration. Maybe the bird would say something like "Pieces of eight where the "Now" light glows..." and the girls would run to their respective parents and insist they be taken to a Krispy Kreme immediately.

"Hey. Gimme some of that funnel cake!" Hmm. It SOUNDED like Brian Doyle Murray, but it was coming from that nice, grandfatherly bird-lover. Weird.
The girls looked at one another. "Whaaat?" one said in a tiny voice.

"Gimmie some of that. It's... it's for the bird."

The girls kept looking to one another for a hint as to what to do. Each of them hoped that maybe one of the others knew what to do when a strange old character actor with a bird comes up and demands that he get some of your food, but they were all in the same boat. Years of watching cartoons and collecting stickers had not
prepared any of them for this occurrence.

The bird guy got a little louder. "Come on, gimmie some. Not a lot, just a tiny piece. It's for him!" he growled, gesturing towards the bird.

One of the girls spoke up. "Nooooo?" Was no an option? Is it okay to say no? Let's
try it and see what happens.

"Come on, just give me a piece!"

Well, this was getting out of hand. I felt bad for the poor little girls. I also I felt bad for anyone who was witnessing an old man shouting "Give me a piece" to these adolescent girls. I felt I needed to step in and help calm things down.

"Hey now," I said, in my most helpful tone. "Give him a crumb! I want to see that bird eat some funnel cake." I really did. I missed out on the dog ear thing, and I didn't want to miss being able to tell Allen that I saw a bird eat some girls' funnel cake AND SHE DIDN'T. IN YOUR FACE, ALLEN!

The girls started looking confused. They were thinking about it, and their resolve was clearly waning. None of them wanted to give away the communal treat without getting some sort of sign that everyone was in agreement that it was okay.

It was too late. The bird guy started walking off. He started shouting over his shoulder, "No, NO. I don't want it now. I see how it is, you're just a bunch of selfish girls! I certainly don't want funnel cake from any SELFISH LITTLE GIRLS!"

We all stood there in shock and amazement. What had just happened here. The girls looked at me for some sort of bookmark to the event. An adult to tell them that they did the right thing, and yeah, that old man was crazy.

Before I could say anything, Bird guy turned around one more time. With each word, his finger stabbed out towards each one of them. "SELFISH! LITTLE! GIRLS!" We sat in silence for a second.then I shrugged and wandered away to find a barbecue sandwich.



Thanks to Davis for taking this picture, so I don't have to suspect that maybe I dreamt the whole weird thing.

The rest of the show was great. I got to see the newlyweds spicada and orangecone as well as meeting digitaldevil! Awesome!

note: I will be at the Avondale Fall Fest this weekend! Come by and say "hi"!

For some reason, any time I attend any sort of training, I always imagine that it will be like college. Specifically, the image of college from the movies. I anticipate a huge auditorium-style classroom filled with a hundred silent, concentrating students, intently watching an instructor expounding on the subject matter from their nice wooden desks. Tucked away somewhere in the back of them, me. Completely unnoticeable. At any given time you could catch me paying close attention, or perhaps even napping with my face pressed happily against my red Trapper Keeper.

It was summer, and the training I was attending was to learn something for my corporate art job that at best I was never or rarely going to use, and at worst I would have to use it. Using it would mean that I am spending less time making art and animation, and more time programming training modules, an activity I did not relish. Times are tough, and I was willing to wear even more hats, but that didn't mean I was looking forward to it.

The class was going to take four days, and it was covering a buggy, outdated training-creator software that I didn't care for. It was like going for four days of WordPerfect training. The detail that the class went into would be much, much more than I would ever need, so my only real consolation was that I could take some time to doodle or fall asleep on my beloved Trapper Keeper.

"You must be Jason!" a grinning white-haired fellow called to me. This was Paul, who I had almost bumped into when I walked up to a building that was smaller than I had imagined. In the back of my mind I dismissed its tiny stature, thinking that there might still be enough room for a good medium-sized auditorium.

Paul led me into a tiny room where I met the rest of the class. "This is Audric. Audric, Jason is finally here!" I had been running late, but hadn't worried about it since I had planned to just sneak around the side and tuck myself in behind fifty or so college students potrayed by movie extras. Now I could see that the class just consisted of two people. From behind one of the room's computers, a stocky man in his fifties nodded at me. This was Audric. Audric was a French-Canadian computer science professor, back in Quebec. He was taking this course to create training modules for his students.

And that was us. For the next week, we would be a little training family. The company occasionally offered training as welcome side revenue, but most of the company's focus was doing real software development. Workers milled around the office, regarding us dispassionately. We weren't new friends, we were interlopers and we would be gone soon. There was no reason to get to know us, and no reason to make eye contact. We would just be sharing their coffee for a few days, then we would be gone forever. It had happened to them before, and it would happen again.

Paul brought in Doughnuts, but I got the idea that doughnuts were not a regular occurance. None of the other workers took any, which didn't make me so uncomfortable that I didn't eat any, but uncomfortable enough that I tried to eat them in private. Like the bathroom. I was a self-conscious houseguest at my Aunt's again, cringing every time my cousins cried out with "Why do we have to eat at the table?!" and "Why doesn't Jason get to stay up ane watch television!?!" I was an interloper and a disruption in a place where I was already uncomfortable. Audric and I were flies living in an anthill. We ate their sugar, and just lazily hung around while the workers scurried around in the dark doing the bidding of the hivemind.

The training itself went fine. Although there was never an opportunity to nap during the parts that didn't apply to my needs, Paul kept it pretty interesting. The first day, when we broke for lunch, Audric who hadn't spoken a word to me, walked up to me and said "Let's go". We walked across the street to a deli. I found out that Audric was from Quebec, and drove to Georgia to take this class on his vacation. He didn't find it as hardcore as I did, he just wanted to see interesting things in America. I told him I'd take him to the most interesting place I could think of, Buford Highway: our own Little China/Little Korea, what have you.

Audric ordered a cheeseburger combo, and they handed him a cup to fill at the fountain. He walked over and took a large bottle of orange juice from the refrigerated shelf, ignoring the soda fountain. I looked around, waiting for someone to say something but no one had noticed.

"Um... You can't just take whatever drink you want, Audric." I warned him, as he opened up his juice.
"That is not true. I did get the one I want. What do you mean?" He replied, confused.
"Well, you got a combo. It comes with a fountain drink."
"Yes, I did that. And it came with a drink. I paid. They gave me this cup." Audric poured some of the juice into the styrofoam cup.
"Yeah, but that's for the fountain. You're not supposed to get a bottled drink. They cost more."
"I don't think you're right. There's no rule about it. If they don't put up a sign, how would people know this? I think you just made it up in your mind."
It was one of those things that I knew was going to sound ridiculous, even before I started explaining it. I let it go.

I didn't know a lot about French Canada, but I was learning. Audric talked at great length about the differences between America and France, the languages, etc. If I asked him to pass the sugar, it was always followed by "We don't eat as much sweets as you do in America. That giant soda you have there would last us an entire month." If I talked about what was on television the night before, he would tell me that they don't watch that sort of thing in Quebec. If I asked what they do watch, I was told I couldn't understand it without a complete knowledge of the language. Apparently much of the humor in Quebec is around language intricacies and is pun-based.

I tried to talk about something French. I liked Luc Buson, so I mentioned that "The Professional" was one of my favorite films.

"Ah yes. "Leon". That film is a masterpiece. The actor in it... the actor..." In America, Leon was released as "The Professional." I don't know exactly why, other than American movie goers were just too dumb to "get" the name "Leon" as a title. Not calling the film "Leon" straight away put me into that category permanently with Audric.
"Jean Reno?"
"No... no the other one..." Audric said, shaking his head.
"Natalie Portman?"
"No. AcTOR, acTOR. She is an actRESS." He rubbed his forehead, concentrating.
I was getting the impression that someone at the table thought I was pretty dumb. "Um... Danny Aiello? You're sure you aren't thinking of Jean Reno? OH, I know. Gary Oldman!"
"It is on the tip of my tongue..."

I gave up, and Audric talked about how Quebec is different than America for another half hour.

The next day at lunch, Paul went with us, as well as Charlie, one of the company's interns. It was infuriating, because every time Audric discussed how Quebec was different from America, I was the only one rolling my eyes. Paul and Charlie the intern were both too nice to, as well as having a few hours less exposure to Audric's lectures. They found him fascinating, and leaned forward to say things like "Really? You don't say!"

Halfway through lunch, Audric's eyes grew wide as he sprung up in his seat like a smug Jack-in-the-Box. "OH!" He cried, excitedly. "I remembered the name of that actor last night in my hotel room! JEAN RENO! He was in The Professional!"
Paul responded. "Oh he's a good actor."
"Yes, he is brilliant. And you know, "Leon" is Jason's favorite movie, but he couldn't remember his name. Jean Reno, Jason. You will remember next time."
"Hey, I did remember, Audric. He was the first one I suggested." I tried to defend myself without sounding petty or without my voice becoming high-pitched.
"Ha, ha... I'm pretty sure I would have remembered..." Audric looked around at everyone else at the table for approval. Everyone was smiling but me. I looked like I was in a Twilight Zone episode.
"I can't believe you'd think I couldn't remember Jean Reno. Of course I know he's in The... Leon." Ugh.
"Ohhh.. I see the trouble now. You said "Reno". It's "Reno". I didn't understand."
"What? Are you kidding? I said it the same way you are. Reno. Jean Reno."
"No. Reno."
"Reno."
"Reno."
"Reeeeehhhhhhhhh.... noooooooooh."
"Close. Reno. Like "Reno" but "Reno". You are so very close.
Paul and Charlie the intern giggled, not knowing what was at stake. Everyone was getting along, that was the important thing.

"RENO."
"Not quite. It's Reno."

I gave up, ordered a beer, and drank it fast. I tried to start a conversation about Sushi, which is the least French thing I could think of. I thought maybe if I could keep him from talking about French things, I wouldn't go to prison for stabbing a man in the eye wtih a hardback copy of "The Little Prince".

"Oh, I love sushi. Do you ever to to RuSan's?" Paul asked.
"I do sometimes," I answered triumphantly. Audric would have to sit quietly for a change while we talked about local restaurants. I didn't care if it was rude or not, I was going to try to spend as much time talking about sushi and landmarks as I could! "I do, but RuSan's isn't my favorite. They use too much mayonaise on their sushi. I like Sushi Rock and Sushi Avenue in Decatur. You know, off Ponce?"

"What is mayonnaise?" Audric asked.
You have got to be kidding me. "You don't know what Mayonnaise is?"
"I have never heard of this." Audric replied. "What is it?"
Charlie the intern spoke up. "It's like a condiment. Ketchup, mustard... mayonaise. It's white stuff you put on... well a lot of stuff." God bless the South.
Audric looked like he was concentrating.
"Ummm... potato salad? Coleslaw?" Paul was trying to help. Another conversation had been successfully derailed by Audric. I sighed loudly but no one noticed.
I tried to help out so we could get back to talking about sushi. "Egg yolks... oil... Comes in a jar?"
Audric brightened immediately. "Ohhhhh... MAYONNAISE! Ha, ha! Of COURSE! Jason had said "Man-nase" and I did not know what he meant."
I wondered briefly where I could even FIND a hardback copy of The Little Prince. I wanted a very new copy. How was it possible he REALLY wouldn't know what I had been talking about?
Audric continued. "You see, it is supposed to be pronounced "mayo-NAYSSSEEEE"! It is a French word. The word "moyeau" means egg yolk."
"Fascinating," remarked Paul.
"You don't say!" Charlie piped in.

After class that day, Audric came up to me, excited. "When are we going to your Little China? I am excited to see it! Are we going after class today?"
I cringed. The last thing I wanted to do was take Audric on an educational tour of an area that's main interest was cultural differences. I told him I'd think about it.

"Jason," Audric asked early the next morning. "If you're getting coffee, could you get me a cup?"
"What?"
"A cup of coffee? Please bring me one?"
I looked at him blankly. "A cup of... huh? Could you show me?"
To keep myself entertained, I had invented a game I called "Reno-No-Reno" in which I would attempt to see how long I could make Audric try to explain a word that I "couldn't understand".
"Coh... fee..." I corrected him.
"Coffee?"
"You are truly, so close, Audric. Coffee."
"Coffee."
"Cof-fee."
"Coffee."

Playing "Reno No Reno" with Audric for the rest of the week, actually made me feel better about hanging out with him. The last day of class, we did go to Buford Highway together, and had a really good time. It turned out that he knew some Mandarin. He was pointing out how the word "Eastern" translates from a chinese character on the side of a bakery van, while a little chinese boy watched us. After a while, Audric stopped and looked at him.
"Yes?" Audric asked.
"My mother wants to know what you're doing to our truck."

Ugh. This was a complete surprise. Just couldn't move this morning. I watched a "Sleepaway Camp" movie and "Lifeforce" but even all the 80's nudity my poor eyes could stand did nothing to make me feel better. Every part of me completely aches. I should be painting, but I can't even manage to do that, today. Ugh.

I am working on a sign for my show booth. I am almost finished with the design, and will start cutting up the pieces of wood soon.

Busy, busy, busy.

So, after the last of my business cards got handed out pretty fast during the first day of Dragon*Con, I had an impromptu meeting with a publisher. He asked if I had a business card, to which I said "No, but I'll bring you one tomorrow." I'm an industrious guy, surely I can make one business card.

I have had a habit of hanging onto smoothed down river rocks since I was a kid. I used to carry dozens of little smooth pebbles in my pockets when I was walking to or from my best friend's house. I had a few of these rocks, and thought "Well, how about if I just try drawing on one of these?" It turned out pretty okay, so I made some more Saturday night. (You can't see it, but my contact info is on the back).



The publisher liked his. I asked him when we can start talking about working together, and he told me to give him a call. "I meet tons of people at these things. Please make sure you tell me you're the guy who gave me a rock as a business card. I'll definitely remember that shit."

They went fast, sorry if'n you didn't get one. I will be selling robots-on-rocks like these at my next show on October 10th at the Candler Park Fall Fest for a mere eight smackers.

The last three Sharpie tattoos went to tinkerboo, mdaniel and saintvictoria!


Matthew wanted a cat who had done something wrong, but wasn't particularly guilty about it. I remembered my cat Gus, who never cared about breaking things, as long as the mysterious dinner bag kept showing up. I am sure most cats think this way.

( MORE SHARPIE TATTOOS )

Things continue to move along. Board games, painting, buttons, cat-sitting, visiting with friends... it's all a blur!

Will be at Dragon*Con, doing Sharpie Tattoos! Come get drawn on!

This is Achilles, a kitten we were sitting for a few days. She and Wendy got along famously, and wrestled the whole time. At first it was normal, but it quickly escalated into this freakish wrestling campaign which became more and more intense every day.





It was fun watching them sleep it off. Eventually, the kitty had to go back home, and Wendy had to make do with wrestling with the other housecats.

DID YOU KNOW: Internet legend Jon Morris had poofy yellow hair growing up!

Happy Birthday, calamityjon I drew this picture of Jeremy as a tribute.

I was going to write a long post about how much I like Jon's writing, his artwork, and how he's been a big influence on me. But then I found this report I did on him in the fifth grade, so now I don't have to!

If you want to learn more about Jon Morris, or just laugh your ass off for a couple of hours, go to Calamity Jon, Save Us! and dig around.

Happy Birthday, Jon.
You make me work harder.

jourdannexand I came up with the idea of doing some quick animations based on telephone conversations. In the end, I decided I'd be better off focusing on other directions, but I still may do some with Jenifer at some point, as long as we can find something to talk about.

But here's a test animation I did of Jonathan Katz based on one of his monthly podcasts. If I were going to continue with the project, I probably would have had to abandon doing it in "squigglevision". It's a lot of work, and a lot of people don't like it as much as I do.  SAVAGES!

 
Clickee dee above image!!!

I really don't know what to do with it now. I should probably submit this to ASIFA's "Roll your own" festival next time it comes around. I guess it will just go largely unseen and unloved, collecting internet dust, apart from the gentle discerning clicks of  youse readers.

Thanks to my buddy Charles Ried for his help.
More Johnathan Katz action at WKATZ

planettom and I started talking (I am annoyed at myself whenever I use the term "talking" for emailing, im-ming, etc. but do it anyways) about what scarred us for life.

I realized that most of the things I remembered scarring me for life were broadcast on TBS!

There was Dirk Benidict transforming into a snake in "Sssssss"


and that scene from "Prophecy" where the guy can't make it under the fence, so you just watch his top half as his legs and pelvis are EATEN BY A RADIOACTIVE BEAR on the other side of the fence! Sorry I can't find that scene. You'll have to imagine it.


But my personal winner was definitely this one:


Enjoy!

The talented and wicked-crafty lorigami made me think of this with her entry about butter wrappers...

I once dated a girl who had parents much older than you would expect, as they adopted her later in life. Her father had grown up during the depression. One day I noticed these... cans. You may know where I'm going with this already.

On top of the cabinets in their kitchen, cans were carefully placed all along the wall like some sort of commemorative "coffee cans through time!" themed border. There were enough of them to make a chain around the entire kitchen.

She caught me admiring them, and blurted it out, a little defensively. "Yeah, my dad saves grease." What?

"He saves grease. Every morning after breakfast for as long ago as I can remember, he saves the grease. Bacon grease, whatever... he just scrapes it into a coffee can and puts it up on the cabinet."

"What..." I was stupified. "What is he going to do with it?"

"I don't know," she said. She picked up an apple and walked out of the kitchen. "No one knows."

It is a wonderful and ACTION PACKED time here! I am working on the online store using "Volusion" which should be up STARTLINGLY SOON! I will keep you all posted on how that goes.

Also, there are going to be things you can wear with my art on it coming soon.

I am trying to use a much better process for making art prints. Hopefully I can get that incorporated for this run of prints and buttons.

New creations coming soon! I could post sketches, and previews, but it's probably better just to put up the final drawings.

Also, tales of funnel cakes, and regular cakes.

It's nuts over here, and Allen's gone for the rest of the week and the weekend. In her absence, if no one saves me from it, I'm just going to hole myself up with old mummy movies and work myself to death...


Has anyone ever seen the documentary "Stevie"? This guy is a really talented and awesome home-musician who reminds me of Stevie. In a good way.
Hello Youtubes!

(If you've ever seen "Stevie", you are cringing right now, and you'll just have to trust me and check out the clip to see what I'm talking about.)

Leila had her operation.

Apparently the proceedure was a success, and her surgeon was extremely happy with how it went, and how things are going. He is expecting very strong functionality from the leg in the future. I will have to take him at his word, because to my untrained eye the X-rays appear that someone at Pep-Boys was told they had thirty minutes to repair a cat using only what they could find on isle three. Apparently if I were educated in such matters, however, I would see the post-op X-rays and say something like "Nice work" or "Masterpiece!" instead of, "No, Dad... I told you to NOT try fixing the cat yourself."

Leila has seven more weeks to stay in convelescence. She has her own room with a thick blanket on the floor, her own food and water, as well as a litterbox. It's her Fortress of Solitude. She really wants to be out, though. Roaming the house, climbing on furniture and going outside. We have to stop her from hobbling out of the office any time the door is opened.

And it sounds like there is a tiny pirate when she walks around. Thump... thump... thump... It's going to be a long seven weeks.

Also, she doesn't clean herself anymore. Do you know why cats clean themselves so often? Apparently it is because they are disgusting. We have to brush her and wipe her down with pet wipes on a regular basis, just so she doesn't look like a castaway.



I am overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who bought art (and then some), came by and visited the yard sale, helped with the yard sale, dropped stuff off to sell, wrote about it in their journals and linked back to the Leila posts. Yesterday at the pet store, we were having a conversation with a cat rescue person who just perked up and said, "Oh wait, I've heard about you! You're the ones who had the yard sale for their cat! I told people about you!"

Thank you so much, everyone! I will continue to keep you posted on Leila's progress.

Umm... did you guys know about this?
Green Hornet with Seth Rogan (getting into better shape every time I see him) and Stephen Chow! STEPHEN CHOW! (Kung Fu Hustle, Shoalin Soccer)

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0990407/

I really, really hope the "wackiness" is kept to a minimum. It's going to be funny, but it needs to be more like Pineapple Express in mood.

It raises a question. WHAT FILM, BASED ON SOMETHING YOU GREW UP WITH, WOULD YOU BE THE MOST EXCITED ABOUT, AND IN WHAT STYLE/MOOD?


Mine might have to be either "Battle of the Planets" as a serious action film, or
Gilligan's Island as a horror/survival film with scarce moments of black comedy. I have talked to my friend Chris about this, and we both agree that Gilligan would have to be mentally handicapped for this film to work.

If you were going to choose the same button/badges in different formats, which would you be more likely to purchase?

The ones with the springy pop-in pin in the back of the button?


The ones where the wire pin is inserted through the little holes in the back?


ASSUME THEY ARE THE SAME SIZE, COST, AND LOOK JUST AS CUTE FROM THE FRONT.

Poll #1420161 Which kind of buttons?
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 57

Which kind of buttons would I rather buy?

ALSO:
Who would you hug first?

I wish I could tell you everything. Just how beat we are, how great it has been to have people donating, ordering Leila prints, or the signs from the yard sale. How wonderful it has felt to have people come up and tell us that they saw our signs, read about this from other bloggers, etc, and thought it was a neat thing we were doing. People were bringing by items to donate to the sale and talking to us about Leila, telling us their own cat and dog surgery stories, and just hugging us over and over. So many hugs, and so many strangers giving us hope, admiration and commiseration.

And how fun it was. Making deals, thanking people, drawing for folks, selling prints... I wish I could let everyone reading this know exactly how it felt. To have so many people care about our efforts... It was incredible.


Best of all, we're going to make it. It's still going to be a tight month, but tomorrow the vet bill will be paid. And it's because of you. Thank you to everyone who donated, and everyone who WANTED to donate but couldn't, but wrote me emails of encouragement and hope.

I'm falling asleep writing this, but I wanted to just say thank you to everyone. It's been a real adventure, and I'll keep you updated with more X-rays and progress reports. I will be also sending you arts!

Love you.
Thank you!!!!!!




( More Garage Sale Art after the cut... )

Thanks to everyone who's donated so far, you know who you are, and so do I. Your art will be coming to you soon, wrapped in gratitude, love, and a cardboard tube! I don't know what to say, besides THANK YOU!!! We still have a ways to go, but with your help, we might just make the vet bill by Monday!



**BONUS: Everyone who donates or has already donated is also getting a set of the first Red Rocket Farm buttons!!! Four little wearable robots for you, just for being awesome! Wear them with pride, knowing that when it was needed most, YOU ROCKED THE CAT BOX!!!

So, Tom aka planettom came up with the idea to do Burma Shave ads for Leila's Yard Sale, and he wrote one. I wrote the other one, but Tom had to help me because his rhymes are so tight! I made the signs by printing them out on a Xerox machine, and gluing them to cardboard with spray adhesive. Then they were held down by little sign hardware available from Ace Hardware for $1.57 apiece.

Click on the image below to read Tom's...



Here's mine. Click the image to reveal....


I placed them so that the address and arrow fell right at the intersection. The signs are pretty small, but they seem readable from a car. Two people honked and gave me a thumbs up while I was taking these pictures. Thanks, Tom!!! Whatta genius.

So Allen has stepped up to the plate to give 15 minute theraputic massage for the donation of your choice! She is a Certified Massage Therapist, and she knows what she's doing! Because she is super-talented, she will also be offering haircuts (NOT at the same time). Now, she is NOT a licenced barber and I have to admit to you, I was scared at first, but she gave me the best haircut ever.

So, make sure you come on down Saturday or Sunday between 7 and 7, even if you're just gonna hang out and get a picture of a robot from me.

Thank you everyone who has been so supportive of what we're doing, and all the offers to help and to donate money to Leila the cat's giant vet bill.

I have had some requests to add a donation button here, but I haven't wanted to take donations until I had something to offer in return. I've put together some Leila artwork and everyone who donates, will get hand-signed artwork. Any donations are appreciated more than you could possibly know!

$1 - $14: 8 X 14 Black and White "Squirrel Attack" strip or "Yard Sale" poster
$15 - $29: 8 X 14 COLOR Squirrel Attack or "Yard Sale" poster
$30 - $49: 17 X 5.5 JUMBO *LIMITED* COLOR "Squirrel Attack" or JUMBO "Yard Sale" poster
$50 and up: 17 X 5.5 JUMBO *LIMITED* COLOR "Squirrel Attack" AND JUMBO "Yard Sale" poster, AND a custom Robot/Monster drawing.


Click to biggify!
Leila is so sweet... EXCEPT TO SQUIRRELS! She works so hard to keep our yard SQUIRREL FREE, and this is how she does it! The 17" long JUMBOs are our biggest prints to date, and the size really helps you to see Leila hiding in the bushes as she moves closer... ever closer...

I don't normally limit prints, but this is a special occasion. To say thanks to people helping out, only 250 of the JUMBO 17 X 5.5 "Squirrel Attack" posters will ever be made! Each one will be signed and numbered. If you want one, please jump on it soon. I have no idea how long these will last and once they're gone, they're gone.

Anything you would like to donate, is HUGELY appreciated. When you donate, please remember to give your Name and shipping address and which artwork you prefer!

Thank you!!!!

It's just stuff, we don't need it.

THIS SATURDAY and SUNDAY! 7-5

We were planning on having a yard sale anyways, but now we're just going to be more aggressive about what we're getting rid of. I'll be selling my comics, and other treasures that frankly don't matter as much as a cat's ability to walk.

If anyone is interested in donating things to sell at Leila's ALL TIME WORLD'S GREATEST YARD SALE EVER, please let me know here, or shoot me an email at: jason "at" redrocketfarm.com so we can schedule something.

If you do feel like donating items THANK YOU VERY MUCH! YOU WILL GET ART! and if it doesn't sell, we are donating all leftover items to the Kidney Foundation.

I will be putting together an online store soon, and I will let everyone know where Leila-themed art will be available for purchase.

EDIT: PLEASE feel free to drop off items WHENEVER YOU LIKE, whether we're here or not. We would be immensely grateful for STUFF ANY time, but any time up to Friday night would be BEST, so that we have time to get it ready on Saturday at 7 am. (That being said, even ON Saturday would still be GREAT!)

ALSO, THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE WHO HAS BEEN REPOSTING ABOUT THIS! LEILA LOVES YOU ALL!

I'm editing this old entry from 2005 for length, and reposting it upon request. I've been watching the old episodes lately, and am surprised at how dark and well written many of them are for a 70's kids show. It's a treat to see them in their entirity, because when I was a kid, I just turned the television off and played outside at the first sign of sleestak.
( LOOK HYEAH! Krofft Television, Sleestak, and Six Flags behind the cut! )

On Friday afternoon I overheard Allen talking on the phone. Our cat "Leila" is a beautiful but overweight Maine Coon who we love. A neighbor called us to say that they thought her leg was hurt. We took her to the Village Vets to see Doctor Franklin. Allen was a little weepy while we waited to go over the x-rays, and I told her that even if it did turn out to be a broken leg there was no way it was going to be more than $600, they'll fix it, and Leila will be fine, worst case scenario. They'll put a cast on her, we'll get a buncha laughs, we'd be out $600, all done. It sucks, because money's tight for us right now, just like everyone we know, and after months of doing shows or other jobs on the weekend to make extra revenue, we're starting to feel like we finally have a handle on things.



Doctor Franklin walked in. I hadn't seen her since Gus' kidney failure, and I was surprised how small she looked without the fifteen babies she apparently had. I imagined her doctor telling her, "No! Too small for babies! Get dog." Apparently, her imaginary OBGYN is a Russian cartoon character.

Her tiny stature made her wide eyes look even wider. "Okay, I have some bad news," she began. "I am so sorry about Leila, but her leg is broken. It looks like she fell, or jumped down from something a little too high up." Doctor Franklin brought the X-rays up on the screen, and mentally I said goodbye to my beloved six hundred dollars.

Doctor Franklin pointed to the monitor. "So, if you look at the x-rays, you see where her calcaneous is broken. Pins here... wires from the... transplanting bone cells from the tibia..." Doctor Franklin's words were just blurring together and I got dizzy from all the veterinarian mumbo jumbo as it was becoming uncomfortably clear that this situation may be shimmying into the $650 range. Years ago, Allen had almost the exact same foot injury as Leila, so she understood all the procedures much better than I did. I was counting on her to pay attention and listen out for suspicious terms like "solid gold femur" or "bionics" as she nodded to the weird deja vu of hearing a doctor tell her all this again. I just sort of zoned out and put my arm around her and waited for the part about how long until our cat would be running around tearing squirrels apart again. I mean, she jumped from a porch or something. It's not like she'd been hit by a car.

"Three thousand dollars."
Something went off in my brain. "Howmanyclowns? What?" I resisted the urge to get a glass of water from the waiting room, bring it back to the office, and spit it out in wide-eyed shock. Okay Jason, time to play it cool. You have to be verrrrry casual about what you're going to say next. The next words out of your mouth could very well be the ones that Allen tells all her friends after the breakup. And she has lots of friends.

"So..." I started, giving my most convincing Psshhw! Well-we-were-about-to-buy-her-a-three-grand-cat-condo-anyways-look. "What... are our other options?"

"Amputation." Doctor Franklin's eyes got wider somehow. Yikes. I was thinking "cast" or maybe just something that didn't involve discarded NASA technology. Without moving my head I glanced down at Allen. Her eyes were tearing up again, or maybe they never stopped. Now was probably not the time to tell her about how much cats actually love amputation very much, and that I was pretty sure Leila had a birthday coming up.

"Another option is just to do nothing," Doctor Franklin continued. I wondered if my eyebrows went up, or if anyone saw them if they did. "She would never be able to walk on the leg normally, and she would just... sort of... drag... it behind her." Doctor Franklin looked at me and for a brief moment gave an ever-so-subtle pantomime of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, then stopped herself. I furrowed my brow and looked at the floor.

"Well, I'll leave you two to discuss it. Again, I am so sorry."

There was a quiet in the room. I thought about $3000. I presume there is some very real law of human psychology that states that unexpected expenses will always cause a person to think about what they could have done with the money that they will now be spending just to get things back to normal. A trip to France perhaps. The biggest television they've ever seen. Good lord, if the damn cat hadn't jumped off the neighbor's privacy wall, we could just rent an inflatable jumping castle for a year. We could have gotten a trick cat from the circus.

I looked at Allen, and thought about Leila. I thought about our cat dragging her leg behind her as she hobbled underneath our 85" television. I thought about Leila limping out to the mailbox to see a postcard with a photograph of us waving from the front of the Eiffel Tower or staring out the window, watching us jump around in our giant yard castle with Circus Cat. I felt like a dirtbag for entertaining my thoughts of "what if we just saved the money instead?", law of human psychology or not.

I guess I never considered myself to be the kind of person who would spend an infinite amount of money on a cat operation. As much as I'm definitely an animal lover, I feel that I'm pretty pragmatic about such things, and the fact of the matter is, that cat refuses to work even part-time. I have insurance for the dog, but I guess I always just assumed if a cat needed three thousand dollars to live that I'd just have it put to sleep because, you know... I'm a dog person, and it's only a cat. Let's not get crazy here.

But I found out that you don't really know until you're there. I love that cat, and I realize I couldn't live with myself if we didn't spend whatever it took for her to be okay again.

Allen looked at me. "I guess we should talk about our options."
"No, we'll just get the operation."
"Where are we going to get three thousand dollars?"
The office smelled like Lysol and dog treats as the x-ray flickered away and the computer went to screen saver. I squeezed her tight. "It'll be all right. We'll find it somewhere."




We checked out and received a bill for $550 for the day's x-rays, pain meds and consultation.