Man Martin's Blog, page 194

Another Reason I Never Made it as a Cartoonist

"But dear... He's a bat!"

How Hot Is It?

Last week we set a new record temperature in Atlanta - 106 degrees.  And this was only June.  In the face of global warming, here's a list of some fun things you can do to keep cool.

Get in your car and drive the the Stop'n'Go.  Buy yourself a large cherry slushie.  Drive home.Get in your car and drive to the Kroger.  Buy a gallon of Butter Pecan ice cream.  Drive home.Drive to the swimming pool.  Drive home.Drive to Ft Walton Beach.  For dinner, drive to a nice restaurant.  Drive home.Turn on the air conditioner.Roll down all the windows in your car and stick your arm out one side.  Put the dog in the backseat.  Drive around really fast.Drive to the Kroger and buy ten bags of ice.  Fill the bathtub with them.  Look at it, but don't get in.  What are you, crazy?  You know what that would feel like.Turn the air conditioner on high.Instead of sitting around in the house, treat yourself and drive somewhere to see a movie.  Enjoy their air conditioning for a while.Go for a drive.When's the last time you sat down with a good book?  Drive somewhere and read one.

Awaiting the McDonald's Implosion

Everybody run!
Hamburger clown's got a gun!Remember folks, you heard it here first: McDonald's is preparing to implode.
Recently they hired high-fashion designer Wayne Hemingway to do a make-over on their uniforms, make them more "European."  This is just one of the warning signs of the coming McDonald's implosion, which I call, The Mcdonocalypse.
Okay, so the name needs work.
Nevertheless I stand by my prediction that within a short while the land will be dotted with smoking craters where McDonald's franchises once stood.
Consider this passage from the prophesies of Nostradamus:


And the hand of a Scotsman will reach far over the land,
And his avatar shall be a Foole,
And he shall make great wealth,
And billions shall be served,
But as soon as he starts introducing capuchino,
It is over.


Vague, yes, but a tantalizing hint. Could McDonald's collapse have been foreseen two thousand years ago?  Consider this passage from the Book of Revelation:


 ...And I turned to see the voice that spake with me.
And being turned, I saw two golden arches;
And the food was bland, and the calf they served with the milk of its mother, and everyone ate therein and was made glad,
But lo, they came out with McRib which was an abomination in the sight of the Lord,
And people whispered one to another, are they kidding?
If you still don't believe consider this newly translated portion of the Mayan prophesies:The Earth by the north will wake up and by the west, itzá will wake up, and when he goes to the drive thru he will see they have oatmeal for sale, with blueberries therein, and he will say unto himself, what the hell, why can't they stick to what they do best?  High-fat, high-sodium processed food that leaves a grease mark on the bag? I rest my case.

STOOPID Contest: June 30

The STOOPID CONTEST: June 30th


Can you identify the title of the Liz Taylor/Richard Burton movie represented by the cartoon below? Send your guess, along with your name and address, to manmartin@manmartin.net One entry, chosen at random from the correct answers will receive an autographed copy of Paradise Dogs, hand delivered to your hide-out, hovel, or basement apartment by a PAID REPRESENTATIVE OF THE US GOVERNMENT.





The previous contest was won by C J Walters of Philadelphia, Mississippi.  C J says the problem with fog is it never comes on a clear day when you can get a really good look at it.  C J wins a copy of Paradise Dogs.



"Moo-ha-ha-ha!  As soon as I throw this switch,
off you go into the infinitely distant future!"
"From Hare to Eternity"

World's Longest Burp

What can I say?  The human spirit expresses itself in many ways.  Some paint, some sing, some write, some burp.

Partial Transcript of an Audio Book as Read by the Author

And the Angels Wept, a novel by Hugh Bohanan

I'm not really keen on the title actually.  It was the publisher's idea.  I wanted to call it Bread of Heaven, and I'm not saying The Angels Wept is bad, but you might want to keep in mind my original title, especially when we get to chapter twenty-four, when Claire and Simone discover the letter, and I think you'll see how nicely it informs the book.
Anyway.

And the Angels Wept (Originally titled Bread of Heaven)  a novel by Hugh Bohanan.
Chapter One.
Darcy and the armadillo had stared at each other a long time without speaking.

I know that's kind of a weird opening, but what I was trying to do was suggest a sort of whimsical world, you know, where people stare at armadillos.  The armadillo will not talk later in the book, as the opening sentence suggests, but it's just kind of there.  Darcy and the armadillo clearly have a relationship, though, as you can tell from the opening sentence.  But I'm not going to explain anymore and just let the work speak for itself.

And the Angels Wept.

You know, actually, that's a pretty good title after all, and I can see the publisher's point.  The problem with Bread of Heaven, and it's a pretty good title in its own way, is that it addresses the theme of the book too directly and doesn't leave enough to the reader's imagination, which a good title should do.  So.  I just thought I'd say that.  Good job, publisher.  Thanks.

And the Angels Wept, a novel by Hugh Bohanan

And I'm not even going to mention the original title I had in mind because I can see now it was a mistake.

And the Angels Wept

It's really silly of me to keep starting from the very opening, so I'm going to skip all the stuff I've already read and just pick up from there.

It was around two-thirty on a Wednesday afternoon.

That doesn't really work after all because you really need the opening sentence to sort of ramp up to the second one, which provides important details about the setting but is kind of abrupt if the novel starts that way.

And the Angels Wept, a novel by Hugh Bohanan

Actually, the armadillo did speak in an earlier draft, but I took it out because I thought it was just too distracting.

Bread of Heaven
Chapter One

I'm sorry.  Wrong title.

And the Angels Wept, a novel by Hugh Bohanan.
Chapter One
Darcy and the armadillo had stared at each other a long time without speaking.  It was around two-thirty on a Wednesday afternoon.

I know what you're thinking, and you're right.  Why the hell can't Bohanan be more specific?  I mean, Wednesday afternoon, that's pretty good, but what's with this around two-thirty?  Don't I know what time it is?  Am I afraid to commit?  But on the other hand, around two-thirty suggests this back-and-forth staring has been going on for some time and also that they aren't conscious of the exact time.  (Not that armadillos can tell time anyway.  Ha-ha.)  So I'm just going to stick with the sentence as it is.  Sometimes your first instincts are right and you just have to trust them.

And the Angels Wept

Damn.
I should have let the armadillo say something.

Physical Therapy

The latest on my torn ACL is that if I do physical therapy to strengthen my leg and improve my balance, maybe I won't need surgery and can still do a triathlon sprint with Spencer next summer, so I'm in there twice a week, doing whatever they tell me, which frankly is sometimes some pretty weird stuff.  The stationary bike and the leg presses make perfect sense, but the part where I stand on one leg on a a little trampoline and go up and down feels just a little silly.  I asked my physical therapist about this.

ME: Do you ever get bored with your job?

THERAPIST: Well, sometimes, I guess.  It's like any other routine after awhile.  You know.

ME: Do you ever think of messing with your patients?

THERAPIST: I don't know what you're talking about.

ME: Do you ever make up crazy stuff for them to do, just to see how much they'll fall for.

THERAPIST: Absolutely not.  That would be against the Physical Therapist Code of Ethics.

ME: Okay.  Good.  It's just that sometimes...

THERAPIST: What?

ME: Well, some of the stuff you make me do is pretty weird.

THERAPIST: Like what?

ME: Like making me hold a ping-pong ball between my knees and walk back and forth across the room like Jerry Lewis.

THERAPIST: This is to strengthen the anterior delteus gluteal cortinoid.  I've explained this.

ME: Yes, okay.  But why do I have to wear the chicken suit?

THERAPIST: Look, do you want to get better or not.

ME: I want to get better, I want to get better... Hey, what are you doing with that I-Phone?  Are you videotaping this?

THERAPIST: No.  Well, yes.  A little.  It's for your medical records.

ME: Well, that's okay then.

THERAPIST: Say, do you think you could flap your arms a little?  Say this phrase for me: buck buck bacaw.

Nancy

When I was, it must've been a junior in college, in John Blair's History of the English Drama Class, I sat next to the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.  This is not hyperbole but a statement of verifiable fact.  
She was not only beautiful, it transpired, but smart and funny.  I was smitten with her at once and did my utmost to impress her; I don't think I ever succeeded in doing this - she had a sardonic sense of humor that failed to be impressed by much of anything and I had a knack for undermining my own best efforts - chatting her up in front of the Georgia College Library for half an hour, for example, with my pants unzipped.  
I did get a date with her, during which she did the most astonishing thing: she took my hand in her lap and patted it.  The tenderness and honesty and simplicity of this just stunned me.  There was no one else like her - we took long walks through the cemetery - who does a thing like that on a date? - studied together on the front lawn of Georgia College (I did rather less studying than she, and got rather higher grades which infuriated her) and hung out with the theater crowd at Georgia College.  
That year, the little town of Milledgeville, the college, the air itself seemed to sparkle.  Those of you who have fallen in love will know the feeling.  She gave me a stuffed puppy after the first date, which we held onto through the birth of our first daughter.  
The next sentence is the sort of corny line I would never permit myself to write were it not the stark, bald truth.  I love her today more than ever.
Happy birthday, darling.

Hammy, the Kia Ham-Star

You've probably already seen it, but I must've missed this commercial.  You really don't know what's going on in popular culture unless you watch the SuperBowl.  Evidently this takes place in a post-apocalyptic world ruled by robots and enormous sentient rodents.  Hammy?!  Hammy the Kia HamStar?!  Good Lord, where is Don Draper when you need him?

Another Reason I Never Made It as a Cartoonist

"Newton was wrong!"