A Musical Journey (or Time Machine Silliness)

I've loved, and been involved in, many things throughout my life. Some mattered more than others. Some lasted longer than others. Some were intensely important and vital to my identity early in life, but not so much later in life. Others are extremely important to my life today, but were barely a blip on my radar while I was growing up. 

Of all the things that have come and gone during this time, very few have lasted my entire life and continue to this day. One of those things is my love for music. I've talked about it some in previous posts, but I wanted to dedicate this space to discuss my musical journey, and why it is a constant in my life.

My earliest memories of music come in two flavors. First is my parents listening to music at home, usually folk and singer/songwriter artists, with some now-classic rock to round out the selections. Second would be the hymns that were sung at church. Not long after I started school, I remember enjoying music class almost as much as recess.

The next memory that comes to the front of my brain is from either first or second grade, where I'm singing a solo during the Christmas concert. I wish that I could remember what the song was. It wasn't a standard song, like Jingle Bells or Deck the Halls, it was a decidedly kid's song, that may have had something to do with an elephant or some such animal. Anyway, I just remember being scared out of my mind to do it. But once I was up there and actually singing, I had a lot of fun.

After a successful Christmas solo, I recall doing additional solos, not only for concerts, but at least one school talent show. By this time, I was also singing in the Sunday School choir in church. During any given week, I was involved with music in some way every day but Saturday, and at least part of that day would still be filled with music (usually 8-track tapes) at home. I will be forever grateful to my parents for instilling an appreciation of music in us at an early age, and continuing to reenforce it while we were growing up.

During 5th grade, we moved from Nebraska back to Minnesota. This brought with it a number of changes, not all good. The change of schools was a mixed bag, at best. But one of the best changes was my music teacher, Mrs. Hill. I can honestly say that, without Mrs. Hill, I would have turned my back on making music. 

You see, as a young boy, I had a very high voice. Most boys of a certain age will start with soprano or high alto voices. But, while other boys' voices started to drift down, mine stayed relatively high, a high alto, down a bit from my soprano starting point. The high singing voice came with a fair amount of taunting and teasing from my classmates, with a common comparison to Michael Jackson. Mrs. Hill would take me aside after class and reassure me that my voice was not something that I should be ashamed of, that it was a gift and something that I should cultivate. It was that encouragement that helped me to ignore the mocking and enjoy music time.

Enter 6th grade, and a new challenger enters the arena: the musical. This particular musical was something that was written by Mrs. Hill for our class to perform during the Christmas concert. I secured my first musical role, with solos and dialog and everything. It was a great experience, and quickly cemented my love for the genre.

Galavanting into junior high school, with all of the changes that come from going from a single teacher and room (primarily) to multiple teachers in multiple rooms, I immediately gravitated to the arts. Our choir and band director was Mr. V. His last name was a long Czechoslovakian name that I won't even try to spell. Everyone called him Mr. V. And while Mr. V. was an excellent teacher, he didn't have the time to give a lot of extra one-on-one attention to a seventh grader. Fortunately, Mrs. Hill, due to the fact that the school from elementary to high school was in a single building, was right there in the music department. She offered to work with me on the side as I continued developing my voice.

Junior high brought with it new music opportunities, like honor choirs, contest, and more theatre roles. This was my first taste of a proper musical theatre experience, when I was cast in the role of Winthrop Paroo in the production of "The Music Man". It was so much more involved than the sixth-grade musical, with so many more people and moving parts. The music was also a fair bit harder that I was used to. Of course, "Gary, Indiana" was nothing compared to "(Ya Got) Trouble", but it was a challenge. And I loved every minute. It still lives on a VHS tape somewhere...

My school's theatre department wasn't big enough to do a musical every year, so they would alternate with a play every other year. Eighth grade was when I discovered that, while I could sing, my acting was mediocre, at best. I was relegated to a largely non-speaking role in "Flowers for Algernon". It stung, but I held to the fact that I could still be involved with the musical every other year, and other music activities in the mean time. These included music contest. It is ironic, for all of the teasing and bullying that I endured at school, when it came down to choosing people for small group and quartet members for contest, everyone wanted me. It felt good. It was something I could look at during times outside of the music department and say to myself "I'm good at something, and people realize it". And I've got the medals to prove it.

And then, like a giant cave troll, ninth grade comes lumbering in, bringing with it the bane of every young male singer: puberty. My normal vocal range came crashing down around me, leaving me with barely over an octave on a good day. And, of course, it was a musical theatre year. I was forced to accept a chorus role in "Bye Bye Birdie" that year, and I was barely able to sing those parts, as it was. Outside of the theatre, I concentrated on instrumental music as I branched out from my B-flat clarinet to the alto, bass, and contra-bass clarinets in instrumental ensembles for contest that year. I knew it was only a matter of time before my voice settled into its new register, which it did by the time 10th grade rolled around.

Tenth grade was my first honor choir. It was my first time singing with students from other schools, under a director that I didn't know. The music was more challenging than we were used to in choir, and getting to know the style of a new director was very interesting. Ultimately, I was glad for the experience, as it prepared me to sing with just about any group and for any director.

In what turned out to be my last year in Kiester, eleventh grade was another musical year. I'm glad that I was able to have one more year in this theatre department, because my decided lack of acting chops would limit my opportunities in the future. I landed the role of the Cowardly Lion in "The Wizard of Oz". Although the costume was, as you might expect, extremely uncomfortable, it was the most fun that I had doing a musical, at least until I got into college. My year ended with more success at contest, but a failed run at All-State Choir in Minnesota, a state choir that was notoriously difficult to get into. I was disappointed, but I tried not to let it get me down. A new adventure was waiting for me back in Nebraska.

But. that's a story for a different entry.

To the strips for this month, we pick through the flotsam of gallery strips that I dumped last week and present the story-related strips here.

Strip 104/166 - Wormhole. Har, har, har.

The term "wormhole" was first coined by theoretical physicist John Wheeler, based at least partially on Einstein's theory of general relativity. This wormhole is reminiscent of the one shown in Star Trek: The Motion Picture which, ironically, has very little to do with the more well-known theories surrounding the phenomenon. A giant space worm has nothing to do with Einstein's theory of general relativity, and more to do with the giant space slug in The Empire Strikes Back. But that one didn't talk.

Strip 105/166 - Aw, just let 'em sleep

I mean, you gotta sleep some time, right? Just so happens it was the third pane of a comic. Happens to us all, eventually. At least, that's what I've been told.

Strip 115/166 - The wind-up time machine

You didn't think that a cardboard box time machine was going to be powered by a quantum singularity, or a warp drive, or even a Cuisinart, did you?

Strip 116/166 - I swear, this wasn't political commentary, just a bad pun!

I figured, if you're going to have a time machine, you may as well actually go back in time at least once. Having rats ratifying the US Constitution was in no way meant to be a political statement. Again, the furthest thing from my mind at that point. Don't worry, more cringey social and political commentary was yet to come.

One more week, and then it's Pat Sajak to the rescue! See you next week.

The One with the Comic Dump (or The One with the Other Missing Strip)

This week is a bit unusual. I'll explain what I mean by that.

By this time in the life of the comic strip, I had been doing it every week for nearly two years. I admire myself for sticking with it for that long. As a life-long ADHD neurodivergent, it can be hard for me to stick with one project for any length of time, although I don't think I was as bad at it back then as I am today. The fact that I've stuck with this weekly blog this long proves that I still have some self-control.

Anyway, by this time, what I once thought was a limitless well of inspiration and ideas was slowly revealing the bottom of the pit, and I was having difficulty coming up with coherent ideas for the stories. If you've stuck with me to this point in the blog, you know what happens when I run out of story ideas: I revert to the dreaded gallery strips. Only I went off the rails here.

Below are ten gallery strips that were published within three months, and one that wasn't. They were interspersed with a grand total of 3 story-related strips. It is shocking on a creative level.

I'll say this up front: I'm not proud of this. Not in the least. That is why I wanted to save you, the reader, the chore of slogging through these to weed out the on-going story, and do a comic dump here this week.

Below is the dump of ten (eleven) gallery strips, with the original lettering, because on some level I'm very disappointed that these exist, at least in this concentration. I'll still give commentary on them, but just know that next week it gets better. And after that, the creative damn breaks and I hit another stride thanks to, of all people, Pat Sajak (more on that later).

Strip 103/166 - The armies charged the opposite way! Get it?

If you can't read it (or choose not to try and decipher it) the text of the last two panes is as follows:

"The armies were about to charge..."

"But something went wrong."

Bunker Hill / Flunker Hill, it's a weird choice, but here we are. I'm fairly certain that, even charging the correct direction, this is not how the actual historical battle went. But, I wasn't there, so I could be wrong...

Strip 106/166 - I mean, they have been drawn now, so technically...

In model building, especially models used for miniatures in movies and television, there is a term called "kit-bashing" where you take a basic model shape, and you start adding elements from various other model kits, some completely unrelated, to your model to create something entirely new. That is essentially what has happened here. Take the original Furble character and add bits and pieces (or take them away in the case of the last pane) to come up with something new and weird. Interesting? Maybe. Funny? Probably not as funny as it was in my head.

Strip 107/166 - Furry dinos instead of feathers, right?

The only thing that I can really say about Prehistoric Furbulian Animals is that there apparently isn't a lot of genetic diversity throughout the history of the planet. Furry dinos, leads to furry balls with antennae, leads to furry bipeds. It's a wonder the gene pool hasn't collapsed already.

Strip 108/166 - With apologies to Hammer and Toho

Truth be told, I'm actually kind of proud of this one, simply for the design of Furblzila, spelling not withstanding. We've already established that Furbulian entertainment closely resembles Earth entertainment for some strange reason, so it stand to reason that characters like these would exist. Not sure how Toho or Akira Watanabe would react to it, but I like it.

Strip 109/166 - Relevant current events, because that's what's cool

If you are of a certain age, you remember the Exxon Valdez oil spill. Or, at the very least, you've heard of it. Yet another attempt to refer to relevant current events in the strip. Humorous, but not funny, probably.

And, yes, in retrospect, I realize what the intergalactic cruiser resembles. Believe me when I say, such things were the furthest from my nerdy mind at that point.

Strip XXX/166 - This strip removed by the editor

Here is the second missing strip from the Furble canon. This one, however, only existed on my original boards. The editor felt that it wasn't appropriate, and decided not to print it. At the time, I wasn't happy, but in hind-sight, she was 100% correct.

The strip was another attempt to be relevant using current events. It was a gallery strip that talked about businesses on Furbulia. I honestly don't remember what the first two were, but the third one was the "Ted Kennedy School of Driving." Shockingly tasteless, hugely inappropriate, I fully admit that now. It's good that it doesn't exist, but I'll still own up to making the mistake of trying to get it published.

Strip 110/166 - Furbulia Paranormal on the History Channel

I have always been interested in the paranormal, even though my thoughts on it have shifted from naive belief to healthy skepticism over the years. These three are among the most famous paranormal concepts around. 

The "Lock-Mess Monster" is a bit difficult if you don't realize that the little boxes at the bottom of the pane are a bunch of locks, or a "mess" of locks. A stretch, I know.

I do like the idea that their UFOs are actually our spacecraft, however.

Strip 111/166 - Oof. That's the comment.

I'm kind of surprised that this one got printed. 40-ish years removed from World War II and Pearl Harbor I guess gives it some leeway, but it's still a bit on the tasteless side. And I won't even talk about how the spaceship seems to morph shape between panes.

Strip 112/166 - Are you tired of these yet? Because I am.

I'm not sure why I leaned so heavily on the idea that Furble's people were, to put it bluntly, morons. I mean, they developed space travel and advanced AI, so they must have been able to do something right. Yet, every other reference has something to do with them being idiots about one thing or another. Just another odd creative choice that I didn't really think all the way through at the time.

Strip 114/166 - Again, they are in this strip, so...

A extension of the "kit-bashing" from before, but this time it's technically attribute-bashing. 

Abnormble actually looks kind of horrific in retrospect.

It's probably good that we aren't seeing Halfurble in profile. Could be messy.

And Flatble, well, I guess if you lose anything under the refrigerator, he's your creature.

Strip 117/166 - The light at the end of the tunnel is near!

We've come to the final strip of the comic dump, plays on popular-ish shows at the time. Perfect Strangers was a popular sitcom that was part of ABC's TGIF lineup on Friday nights. That's Incredible! was a reality show that had actually gone off the air a couple years before this was published. And most people know about Geraldo Rivera's talk show, Geraldo, where he was famously hit in the face by a chair swung by a guest, sending ratings through the roof. Unlike the chair, none of these landed.

And that's it. The silver lining is gallery strips only appear a couple more times for the remainder of the run of the comic strip.

Next week, we're back to a more normal entry. See you then!

Silver Screen Scores (or Curses! Foiled Again!)

As I've been writing this blog, it occurs to me that more than anything I'm using these anecdotes and essays to describe what makes me, as a person, tick. 

I've talked about my various fandoms, the fact that I love video games, and that science-fiction/fantasy runs through my veins. But, if I were to point at a single thing that shapes who I am as a person, it is music. It has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. We listened to various types of music in the house while I was growing up, mainly classic rock and soft rock, but interspersed with more eclectic selections at times. While it did form the basis of my taste in music as I got older, as I was more and more involved in music in school, the more my interests expanded to more choral and instrumental styles of music. By the time I made it through high school, I was listening as much to classical music as I was popular music, with a bit of new age instrumental for good measure.

There is one genre of music that, while I had enjoyed for a very long time, I didn't really start to concentrate on until I got into college: movie soundtracks, scores specifically.

From Star Wars to Star Trek to The Last Starfighter to Tron, while the spectacle and awesomeness of the action and special effects brought the people into the theater seats, the musical scores for these movies help the viewers' brains interpret the emotion of the scene on the screen. And, while I was very aware of what I was listening to as I watched these and other movies, it wasn't something that I necessarily listened to outside of the context of that movie, with the exception of pieces that made it into the popular stream, like the Star Wars opening fanfare, or the theme from Jaws.

Fast-forward to freshman year of college. One of the activities that I was involved with was the college radio station. Once I got my FCC license, I was given an over-night DJ shift. The fact that I was the only person in the station for most of this time gave me a lot of opportunity to check out the library of music that the radio station owned. Among the classic rock and alternative music was a small collection of movie scores. Between times on the mic announcing the next song, I listened to these albums, and I realized what I had been missing all this time: the ability to watch a movie again, in my mind, as I listened to the score. Not long after that, I began to collect recording of these movie scores. At first, just the movies that I truly loved, like the Star Wars trilogy and the Star Trek movies. But soon I branched out into other movies and genres, and discovered a number of composers that have since become some of my absolute favorites.

John Williams has been, and will likely be for some time, the ruler by which movie composers are measured, and for good reason. His catalog is absolutely massive, with each and every one a mini masterpiece in its own right. Even his lesser-known scores are a joy to behold. And while you could fill your library with his work and have a truly eclectic collection, there's so much more out there. Here are some of my all-time favorites:

The Last Starfighter - The movie is known primarily for two things: it was the first movie to use CGI instead of traditional models and miniatures for its space battles, and it was the last movie that the great actor Robert Preston worked on. But, as important as those are, its score is a great listen. Craig Safan composed a rousing march-inspired score, with a memorable theme. It gives a great sense of weight to a movie that is often dismissed due to the lack-luster box office performance.

Battle Beyond the Stars - This cult-classic movie was released in the wake of the success of Star Wars, and was the first major film project for a young James Horner. The notoriety he gained from this project propelled his career, leading to scoring Star Trek movies, Braveheart, Titanic, and numerous other blockbuster hits. Roger Corman liked it so much that he reused the score for two additional movies. This score definitely shouldn't be missed.

Lost in Space - Not to be confused with the techno/house soundtrack also released. When discussing movie scores, I often refer to this film when I want to emphasize the importance of a good score. The movie, which attempted to reboot the classic television series (which a young Johnny Williams scored) was a massive failure on many levels. But composer Bruce Broughton elevates the movie to watchable status with his amazing score. Personally, I think Broughton believed that he was scoring a much better film when writing it, because it deserved much better than it got.

These composers, and others such as Jerry Goldsmith, Hans Zimmer, and Danny Elfman, have all influenced my musical tastes and my own composing style.

I wonder who I would choose to score Furble...

Strip 99/166 - Jenga gone very wrong

I gave myself a chance to do some more practice with drawing 3-D shapes. Not too bad. 

I wish I would have removed the divider between the third and fourth panes here, so the "CRASH!" was less obstructed. It still works, I think.

Strip 100/166 - Those rentals will get you every time

I do find it amusing that I decided to make his predilection to save a buck by renting everything his true nemesis, not necessarily Furble, who hardly ever interacts with him, giving the Admiral no true reason to be angry with him.

Strip 101/166 - There's always a rule

Once again, Furble and FC slip through the Admiral's hands/tentacles/protuberances. And, while the Admiral has been denied his quarry, our favorite duo is probably not out of trouble just yet.

Strip 102/166 - When I say don't touch anything...

Off they go, ready to face whatever may come as they careen through space and time on new adventures. TV box time machines can be fickle.

Put on a good soundtrack, kick back for the long weekend ahead, and I'll see you next week!

Food, Glorious Food (or The One With the Missing Strip)

Nostalgia. Ostensibly, it's what this blog is all about. The sense of longing for the past, thinking about the good memories that make you say "I remember back in my day..." (although I don't think I'm quite to that point, yet). There are many things that can produce a sense of nostalgia, whether it's an old television program, a song, a photograph, or even a smell. In fact, smell is one the most powerful triggers of memories. It's so prevalent, that there are actually a number of different words and phrases that refer to it, such as odor memory, olfactory memory, and redolent.

As I'm thinking back on growing up, the scents that trigger memories are most often associated with food, or at least food preparation. 

In the summer, while we lived on the family farm, there were a number of gardens on the property. Grandpa planted everything, from potatoes to strawberries to cucumbers. Whatever wasn't eaten fresh (which was quite a lot, to be honest) was either frozen or canned. The canning process produced many scent memories for me. The vinegar used to pickle the cucumbers to the heating of the filled jars to produce the required seal filled the summer kitchen with familiar smells every year. To this day, the smell of dill sends me back to those times, with my grandma and mom working in the hot kitchen to ensure that nothing from the garden went to waste.

When you're feeding a family, you have to make the dollars stretch, and while using veg from the garden certainly helped, not everything could be grown. You need to get your meat from somewhere. Ground beef was a staple, certainly, but an even more notable smell reminds me of those days: Spam. Before it was associated with unwanted email, it was a common main course at the dinner table. Smelling almost like ham, but not quite, it was actually quite good, if a bit on the salty side. Mixed with mayonnaise, it made a great cold salad spread for bread. Even today, there's still a part of me that craves that World War II-era product.

In the interest of stretching food to feed a family, mom would mix the ground beef with bread to make a Danish dish called frikadeller. It was about this time that mom started cooking with the microwave. The appliance had been around for some time, but had recently become more affordable. And the convenience of putting a dish in and cooking it with little or no attention required was certainly a boon to busy people needing to multi-task. While I always craved the smell and taste of a 100% beef patty, frikadeller fed us quite well growing up.

There are so many other smells that trigger sense memories today. The smell of frozen cardboard triggers the memory of the office of one of the hog farms we grew up on. The smell of lilacs tiggers memories of the family farm and the lilac tree that grew there. But food smells are definitely the most powerful. And they are something that I will hold on to for the rest of my life.

Strip 95/166 - Guess who's baaaaack?

Is the whole "complicated dialog simplified for the simpleton" getting old? Obviously I didn't think so, since I kept coming back to it so often.

Speaking of coming back to things, our favorite Admiral is back once again to harass our heroes. In the first frame, I was going for a "opening of Star Wars"-type, ship passing overhead towards the planet-type shot, but the aspect of the ship overhead turned out a bit wonky. But it's always good to try new things.

Strip 96/166 - Something, something, something, better fool.

Speaking of coming back to things... I think I had a tendency to rely on call-backs a bit too much. They can be a fun trope, but they do rely on the reader to have something of a familiarity with the history of the strips to really pay off. Otherwise, they just don't land right.

Strip 97/166 - Caption missing

In the history of the strip, there are two missing comics. One was never published, as we'll get to that soon. But this one was actually published. 

Backstory!

When I started the strip, we were keeping each edition of the Kiester Courier-Sentinel as they came out each week, for the sole reason of keeping a copy of each published comic. Over time, these papers started taking more and more room in the closet in which they were being kept, and at some point we made the decision to just cut the comics out of the papers (with the exception of a few other items, like the small article blurb in the first issue) and discard the rest. Unfortunately, during the course of this process, we realized that we had missed an issue. I don't know if it was too late to get a back issue of the paper, or if we just didn't think of trying that, but we just came to terms with the fact that there was going to be a missing strip.

So, there it is. The basic gist of the missing strip is as follows: the Admiral comes upon a hill, with Furble, FC, and their new friends located on the other side. He comes up with the Wile E. Coyote-esque plan of rolling a boulder down the hill to squash them. As the boulder hits the top of the hill, it instead rolls back down and squishes the Admiral. Hilarity ensues. End scene.

Maybe someday I will redraw it.

Strip 98/166 - Just call me Sisyphus

Maybe it's time for another plan. This one seems to be letting the Admiral down.

You know what never lets you down? Food. And nostalgia. See you next week!

Dad Controls the Remote (or New Character Fun)

 

Today, we have a seemly unlimited supply of options when it comes to watching stuff on TV. Hundreds of cable/satellite channels, more streaming services than your pocketbook can keep up with, and pretty much every movie ever made available on some sort of digital platform. Not to mention the petabytes of content being produced every minute on YouTube. If you can't find something to watch, you're not trying.

Growing up, there were a grand total of 4 stations for those of us living in the country to choose from. If it wasn't on the local ABC, CBS, NBC, or PBS affiliate, you weren't watching it. If you were close to a major metropolitan area, you could probably get some of the unaffiliated stations. In the country, you may or may not get all of the stations in your current location, at least not without hoisting an external TV antenna aloft above the house. We got ABC, CBS, and PBS, and on a good day we sort of got NBC. Given the limited network choices, this obviously limited the viewing choices on any given night. And, as long as dad was at home, those choices were often dictated by him.

Don't get me wrong; with few exceptions we all enjoyed, at various levels, the televisions shows that we watched as a family. There were similarities in tastes in entertainment that were common among all members of the family. But, given a choice, my dad would choose a cop show or military drama over a science fiction or fantasy show, where I and my mom's interests tended to drift.

Some programs of choice, from my (albeit sometimes faulty memory) were the likes of T. J. Hooker (William Shatner trying to move on from Kirk), The A-Team, Mission: Impossible, Dallas, CHiPs, The Rockford Files, M*A*S*H, and Hogan's Heroes, with some comedy from the likes of Newhart, Mork & Mindy and The Love Boat as examples. Some were first-run at the time, others were syndicated reruns of older shows. These shows are integral in making up large parts of my personal taste in televised entertainment today.

For the record, when I say "Dad Controls the Remote", we didn't have a television with a remote until later in the 80s. So, my brother and I were the "remotes".

When my dad was working nights for a while, my mom and I (and my brother) got the run of the television for the night. While we did gravitate towards many of the same shows that we watched with dad, we also had the chance to change things up, and watch some of the more fantastical programming of the day. Shows like The Powers of Matthew Star, V, Starman, and Max Headroom, while they didn't often last longer than a season or two, did provide enjoyment and escape.

Of course, after-dark during the summer was my time to control the TV, and on Friday nights, it was invariably tuned to PBS for Friday night science fiction, which consisted of British imports like Red Dwarf, Blake's 7, and probably my personal favorite science fiction show of all time, Doctor Who.

Now, most of these shows are readily available on streaming platforms, for purchase, or running on any number of channels dedicated to syndicated classic programming. And I can relive my childhood memories in front of the television anytime I want.

Strip 91/166 - New characters on the scene

I really liked introducing new characters into the strip whenever I could. It always gives the comic a breath of fresh air. Of course, per my level of drawing aptitude, the designs were simple. Round dudes with arms gave me something to work with while making them easy to create.

Strip 92/166 - You need to be specific with these guys

Joke as old as time. Where am I? Right here. Duh. Be specific next time.

Strip 93/166 - If you don't get this gag, congratulations! You're not old.

This strip actually contains call-outs to two different pieces of entertainment from my youth. The second panel is actually a reference to a line from The Last Starfighter ("Welcome to Rylos, my boy!"). The rest of the strip is a shameless rip from the 80s comedy Newhart. For the uninitiated, three of the characters were brothers. The first brother would introduce them all using the same dialog I used in the strip as a running gag throughout the series, hence Furble's concern about breaking copyright laws. Yeah, I wouldn't worry too much about that.

Strip 94/166 - What are you, psychic or something?

This gag comes from the likes of the classic spy comedy Get Smart. Something else that I greatly enjoyed in reruns, as the series was off the air before I was even born. I do like how these different influences made their way into my strips. It's like a mini time capsule of memories about the television that shaped my brain. Maybe a little scary at times, but I consider myself well-rounded.

Keep changing those channels, and I'll see you next week!

Roughing It (or Adventures Through Space and Time)

Tents, camp stoves, canned food, grilled meats, and lots of hiking. Camping is a favorite pastime for many families, and ours was no exception. At least one weekend per month during the summer months saw us packing off to one of the area state parks to enjoy a few days communing with nature. And, as much as I probably would have issues with camping today, I really did enjoy the relative peace and quiet whenever we were out there. 

Really, the only camping experience that I truly did not enjoy was the one and only time I went camping during my short-lived time as a Boy Scout, which just turned out to be another place outside of school to be bullied. But, that's a story for another blog...

One of my most cherished camping memories was during an extended family vacation up north at Lake Itasca State Park in Minnesota. The headwaters of the Mississippi River are pretty cool in their own right, and the area up there is absolutely stunning. But what made it truly memorable was something that happened away from the park camp grounds.

We were on a supply run to the local Pamida in Bemidji. Outside of the store, someone had a box of the more adorable kittens you have ever seen. We spent a few minutes petting a cuddling them, knowing that we were 8 hours away from home, and adopting a cat at this point would have been difficult, at best. We went in, did our shopping, and started to leave. But, the allure of the cute furballs in the box outside was just too great. So, here we are, taking an adorable male kitten back with us to the campground.

Johnny, as he was dubbed by the family, was the best boy. He had fun running around in our enclosed screen tent. Even chased a small chipmunk who had the misfortune to find himself inside the tent, which was impressive, because as a just-weaned kitten Johnny wasn't much bigger that the little rodent. After he had played himself out, he curled up next to the kerosene lamp on the picnic table and took the cutest nap you've ever seen. Johnny would grow up to be a big boy, and would spend time with me as my first cat when I was able to have pets in my apartment.

Our last major family camping adventure was at Yellowstone National Park. After a two-day trip, we managed to get to the park after the main gates closed. Instead of turning around and finding a hotel in one of the local towns around the park, we decided to sleep in our cars and wait for the gates to open the next morning (along with a surprising number of other late-comers).

Once we made it into the park, we had an amazing experience. When you experience one of these national parks in person, you realize why they were set aside for preservation. The waterfalls, the geysers, the hot springs, each one is more stunning than the next. The previous year had seen a major forest fire in the park, and driving through the areas affected by the natural disaster was an entirely different type of awe-inspiring experience. Acres of burnt tree trunks where once was lush forest, but even then you could see new undergrowth pushing up from the ground. Nature renewing itself.

Of course, this particular trip was also the site of one of my biggest camping faux pas. Given the danger of bears in the park, we were told to keep all food stowed in vehicles to prevent the smell from attracting any of the ursine forest dwellers. So, we stowed all of the food in my car, and locked the doors. The next morning, with breakfast on the agenda, I went to unlock the car and retrieve the food. After a brief but frantic search, we realized that I had not only locked the food in the car, but my keys as well. Breakfast we delayed as we requested the assistance of a park ranger in opening the locked car. And Marcus didn't live it down for the remainder of the trip.

While camping isn't really an option for me any longer due to reasons, I still enjoy nature when I can. I think that "roughing it" (in a relative sense) really helped me to gain a level of respect for nature and our place within it.

Strip 87/166 - Oh, Furble, you kooky alien.

We've made it past the halfway point of Furble's run in the paper. While I was borrowing heavily from other franchises for story concepts, I'm still amazed that I was sticking with it, especially since I have such a hard time as an adult focusing on a single task long enough to complete it.

Strip 88/166 - Maybe try that again

Having access to a TV box that can travel in time and space should make it easy to travel anywhere you want, even lightyears back home. But, like the TARDIS, this particular TV box seems to have a mind of its own. Or maybe Furble simply doesn't know what he's doing.

Strip 89/166 - Perhaps Furble should revisit "foolproof"

Make something foolproof, and life will make a better fool. That's the takeaway.

Strip 90/166 - You are "here"

With Furble and FC finding themselves in the middle of nowhere, perhaps they should simply pitch a tent and make an adventure of it.

See you all next week!

Pets (or Keep It Simple, Stupid)

Apparently, the Internet is good for two things. One, well, I won't discuss that here. But the other thing is cat videos. And I really cannot argue the point. There are few things that calm me more than watching a video of a cute kitten doing cute kitten things. In fact, you could show me nothing but cat videos for hours on end, and I'd be perfectly content with my lot in life.

Needless to say, I'm a fan of cats. I'm a fan of pets in general, cats specifically. We always seemed to have some sort of pet while growing up. Whether it was the various cats that would find their way to the farm, or animals that we would adopt, there was always something. We tried hamsters for a while, but it turns out that they are actually quite a lot of work to take care of properly, so that didn't last long. We had fish for a while, as well. Unfortunately, that ended when the fish tank didn't survive the U-Haul move from Minnesota to Nebraska my senior year.

We had a few different dogs while growing up. The first one I remember was a huge Doberman Pinscher who was less of a pet and more of a guard dog for the hog farm we lived on at the time. My brother and I had a pair of Australian Shepards for a while. I had a Cocker Spaniel who, while a sweet and wonderful pet, was not the most intelligent of dogs. My brother had a Rat Terrier who was super smart (per breed).

There were only a couple of occasions growing up where we actually had cats that were proper in-the-house pets. Most of the time, as I said, they were cats that decided to take up residence at the farm. Of course, we fed them, and actually built a little house for them, but they were firmly outside cats. I don't know why, but I became a cat person. When I was finally able to get a pet of my own after college, it was always going to be a cat, no question in my mind (and Johnny was the best boy). Even today, my wife and I are decidedly cat people.

There's a human need to love something, and have that love returned. Pets are the perfect vessels for that purpose. And not just cats and dogs. I've known people with ferrets, rabbits, rats, even knew someone who owned a chameleon. All loving their owners, unconditionally, in their varied ways.

Pets may not be for everyone, but I think that everyone should at least investigate the possibility.

Strip 83/166 - Spike, the living asterisk

Furble's nemesis, the Admiral, has brought his own pet to the show. Named Spike, he bears an uncanny resemblance to an asterisk, that little star character that exists about the "8" on your keyboard. When I decided to introduce the little guy in the strip, I considered many options for drawing some sort of small creature. I've already discussed my illustration prowess (or lack there of) on numerous occasions, so no need to elaborate, other than to say I figured it would be best to come up with something that I could easily recreate. Implementing the concept of KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid), I chose a simple star-like creature. Four intersecting lines that could be bent around as needed. I think it came off pretty well, given the design aesthetic of the rest of the strip.

Strip 84/166 - The blame game

Furble and FC play the blame game while sining the jailhouse blues. I assume that Spike managed to shut the cell door somehow.

Strip 85/166 - Deus ex whistle

Furble is supposed to be blowing into something similar to a dog whistle to summon the "time machine", which is why all you can hear is the "FFFFFF!" of him blowing into it. It may not have come off exactly like that in the end product.

Strip 86/166 - Punishment protection

PSA: don't punish your pets by hitting them. Only evil Admirals do that.

Hug your pets extra tight (unless they are fish, that could have adverse effects), and see you next week!