Comic for Friday, March 13, 2009

Posted: 6:35 am, Friday, March 13th

I can't wait for the summer when my Fridays arrive and I'm not absolutely zonked and looking forward to nothing more than sleeping for ten hours. Of course, this week was rather extraordinarily busy. Monday, 2.0 and I took a tour of Ryan McGinness' studio in Soho after checking out his new show, which I highly recommend. On Wednesday, after slaving away on my school's lit journal, we went to the BAC's Regrant ceremony (2.0 was a panelist for awarding the grants) and got to see the man, the myth, the legend: Marty Markowitz. McGinness works in screen-printed vector icons in massively busy collages. It's got a lot of graphic design in it, and I dig it something fierce. Seems like a nice guy, and is working with the seven deadly sins in his upcoming stuff, so I'm looking forward to that, too. (You can get an idea of the icons here, and the complete picture here.) As for Marty, he is God. He is the much-loved president of the Republic of Brooklyn, and actually less of a cartoon character than he plays on a lot of his TV appearances. Anyone who has ever broached the subject with me knows how much I love this guy, and after hearing him speak on Wednesday night, I love him even more. He is amazing. (Oh, crap! There is a New Yorker profile of Marty! I know what I'm reading this weekend.)

I realized a slight continuity error in Wednesday's strip, but it's not really an important one. The sunrise Ron and Lissa were watching could've only happened at about seven thirty, meaning that about two seconds would pass between then and today's strip, which is not my intent. I forgot about daylight savings time pushing the sunrise back an hour. That moved recently, right? I seem to remember it occurring in April previously.

So I get this call the other day while still at school, and it's my old landlady (old as in former, all of her natural hair pigments remain), telling me she received a mysterious package for me.

Her: "It's a black-wrapped package... Feels like a t-shirt."

Me: "Huh. I don't get it. Is there a return address?"

Her: "No. Should I open it, to see if you want to fetch it?"

Me: "Sure. I hope it's nothing scarring."

Her: (opening, opening) "There's a handwritten note... 'How nice it was to see this shirt.. something, something.' It's a Phil Gramm for president t-shirt."

Me: "Oh my God. This is so weird."

You may remember Pete in a Phil Gramm t-shirt appearing in the strip in the past. The way past. I don't even know the last time he wore it. I think it may've been Mara's introductory storyline, actually. So my buddy Federico must've found the site and decided to troll through the archives, and in a fit of weirdness, decided to gift me the shirt. I don't know for sure - I'm swinging by the old place to pick it up over the weekend. Of course, I will not be able to contact Federico to correct him on my address, or thank him, or anything resulting in two-way communication between us, because that's not his m.o. This guy sent Tree a series of postcards each with one word on it as he traveled from (if I recall) Iowa City to Alaska. Each was postmarked from a different state or province, and I think the entire message was something like, "Hello, how are you doing?" I was very envious of that, and now am thrilled that I have received such strangeness in the mail.

Of course, any future correspondence should be directed to my current domicile, and this is the problem: getting Federico my new addy without broadcasting it on the internet. So I am going to do the following. In Prospect Park, in Brooklyn, there is an entryway on Barlett Pritchard Square (which is a circle). As you go directly into the park from that point, there is a ballpark. I will tape one part of my address to the bottom of the bench in the third-base dugout. There is a statue of a gynecologist in Grand Army Plaza - I will tape the second part of my address to that statue. The third line of my address will be buried in the first patch of soil due south of the Revolutionary War monument to the Maryland division, in the Park. Because I cannot guarantee the weather this weekend - or my activity levels, as I am a bit sick still - I will do all of this the first Saturday that it tops 80 in the month of June, to give Federico time to plan to be in Brooklyn. I will also add one to each number in my street address, to keep weirdos from roaming my building (other than myself, of course).

Alternately, Federico, if you're reading this, create a one-off e-mail address for the sole purpose of getting my address. I will write you back from the account linked on this page and not include any information other than my mailing address, because I know that's how you roll.

Do I have anything else to say? Go, Battlestar? I guess that's about it. Oh, the new tiny Shuffle is ludicrous.

bullfrog

Joe B -- Friday, March 13 2009, 10:13 am

Bullfrog, there's light in the sky (what's twilight in the morning called?) at 6:30 these days, and sun hitting the edges of the clouds by 6:45. I'm sorry I know this from daily experience but I do. Besides that, yesterday for these two started early in February, and we're not worried about that either!

You inspired me to listen to "I Love College" -- this song is so stupid that I'm actually really enjoying it. Is that wrong somehow?

Hey, isn't that red tshirt Jen's wearing the same one I borrowed from 2.0 for about three months? Fun!

Today's strip was nice. Although Lissa is going to be suffering at work for staying up all night.

Jen has issues. Deep seated Single White Female (the Movie) like issues.

Oh continuity! Lissa telling Mena it's friggin' forty degrees a few hours earlier, and now she's sitting there with no jacket and bare feet. It must have been one of those nights when a warm wind blows in. It does happen, so let's say it did. Even the weather likes this story line.