Moving

My wife has finally agreed to move. Probably this year; if not, definitely next year.

This is exciting for me. For one thing, I can now put together an estimate of what the house I'd like to build will look like. There may be many changes before the house is actually built, but the one I've designed is close enough to what I expect we'll build that I can safely use it as a starting point. I can look into stuff that really appeals to me as possibly being a part of this project.

For example, I'm fascinated by the solar shingles that Dow Chemical is planning to release this year. They'll be like regular roof shingles, will cost less than solar shingles currently on the market, will be simple enough to be installed by regular roofing contractors, and will (presumably) look good. Some of the cost of solar will be offset by not having to install conventional shingles under the solar collectors, as is generally done now. And helping to keep the price down will be Dow's use of a plastic surface. Currently, solar collectors, even the existing shingle type, use glass to protect the components--but Dow, of course, has decades of experience and research in plastics, so they plan to use a durable plastic covering instead.

I also like the idea of using slate-look shingles that are made of recycled rubber and plastic, but they're about ten times the cost of asphalt, so the non-solar areas of the roof may receive a less interesting covering. But at least now I can seriously contemplate the pros and cons! Up till now, any research I've done about building materials has been an adult version of playing house.

Now I'll approach everything I do around this house from a different perspective, too. Instead of the nice sage green I planned to paint the inside of the garage, maybe I'll do a pale yellow, as suggested by one Realtor. Plantings will be more for curb appeal than for ourselves...and long-term plants like asparagus or blackberries don't make any sense. (Of course, now I can start dreaming about all new plantings for our new home!)

Even furniture becomes a consideration. If we're going to have a more open floor plan, coordinating room-to-room becomes more important. What size, style, color, pattern, might we want for new pieces? When we chose our current furnishings, we had a 32" TV tucked above the fireplace. Now that it's 50 inches, do we plan the great room differently? I like the idea of the TV disappearing behind false books or something when it's not in use. I'm already planning a hidden door in a bookcase between rooms. I've even toyed with the idea of a narrow opening through which an indoor clothesline could extend outdoors. Whatever else the next house has, it will include some fun features along those lines.

On one hand, it's overwhelming. On the other, for a design-oriented person, it's a chance to start over.

Talk Like Shakespeare Day

Today is Talk Like Shakespeare Day. I should have written about this earlier, so people who read this would've had the whole day to, well, talk like Shakespeare. Of course, you can do that anyway, but it only makes sense if it has an official reason. Or if you work at a medieval style restaurant. Or if you're doing a Shakespeare play.

Most of us, however, aren't working at that type of restaurant (or any type, actually) or doing a play. So our only chance is to do it without getting funny looks is to do it on this Official Day. So, if you're reading this Friday evening, start. Now! There are only a few hours left.

Maybe it's better to start late in the day. It's very hard to talk like Shakespeare. Even if you get the hang of the thees, thous, thys, arts, hasts, doths and the other popular noun, verbs and pronouns, almost every other word has to be changed from modern versions. For instance, "You have annoyed me" might become "Thou hast pricked my curs'ed caddy-piddle", which isn't even legitimate Elizabethan English, but at least bears a passing resemblance to what Will might have said. He did know how to turn a phrase. But remembering those terms, or even making up authentic-sounding words,whilst speaking at a normal tempo, would tax the most skillful knave amongst us.

Anyway, give it a shot. If you go out for drinks tonight, you might try something along the lines of "Hie thee, o serving-wench, fetch me a bottle of thy finest Bud Light with Lime, for my thirst doth need slaking forthwith." (Wait a minute...you might want to cut the "serving-wench" part unless you announce the reason for speaking that way first.) Or, "Verily, by Beelzebub and his fiery minions, those Red Sox surely
are putting an ague in my heart." If you don't get punched, you may get complimented.

Thou mayst even find a lovely lass, with eyes as azure as the deepest chasm in Neptune's sea, who'll fall for that crap. Good fortune to thee!

(By the way, the cartoon above is available on a T shirt, mug, etc here.)

Live theater

Despite having been involved in theater for years, I'd never seen a stage version of Cabaret till yesterday. Well, this was worth waiting for. There was a twist that the director came up with that still gives me a lump in the throat if I think about it. (I can't reveal it, because they may revive the production at a later time--and I hope they do.) For those who aren't familiar with the show, it's essentially a juxtaposition of the anything-goes morality in the clubs of Berlin in the 30's and the rise of the Nazi party. The contrast between the relative innocence of the characters and the coming darkness is powerful. And, as many musicals are structured, the first act is mostly an introduction of the characters and their relationships--you are only hit with the impending horror at the end of Act One, then Act Two turns darker.

We entered the theater, a space in which the audience seating wraps around three sides of the stage, to find the most appropriate set I'd ever seen in the space. I was immediately transported to prewar Germany. the pre-show consisted of the "boys and girls" of the Kit Kat Club serving people at tables around the edges of the stage and bantering with the audience, so we already knew a little about them before the lights went down. Once the show began, the Emcee became our guide through a wonderful evening of dancing, singing, acting, music, lighting and sound. Every phase of the production was top notch, and it fit perfectly in the small space. I've seen other shows in that theater that were meant to be bigger--a production of A Christmas Carol, for example, fit into the space well enough, but really deserved a bigger venue. Cabaret fit in as if the place was made for it--as if the space was, in fact, the Kit Kat Club.

I marveled, as I left the building, at how powerful live theater can be. The last time I felt that I'd seen something that could only be this effective in a live setting---that would have been diminished onscreen or on TV---was when I saw The Lion King on Broadway. Yes, I've seen other equally stirring shows since, but that show and the one I saw yesterday belonged absolutely to the stage.  If I watched a DVD of yesterday's show, I wouldn't have the same intense experience, because I wouldn't be so immersed in the space. So I may regret that I attended the last performance and can't go back again, but I can embrace the experience I had that one time. No matter how amazing our technological entertainment becomes--3D TV, videogame headsets, surround sound headphones--there will always be a place for live theater. And while I love a lighthearted, upbeat show, musical or otherwise, as much as anyone, I will still be amazed and overjoyed when the next stirring, dramatic piece of theater rips my heart out and slaps me in the face. I was exhausted on the way home, and yet felt so alive...more so, perhaps, because, even with the lights, sound mixing and other technologies that went into it, what truly moved me was simply other people in the same room as I, taking me to places thousands of miles and decades away.

Sorry!

I was driving along today and entered a highway via an on ramp. I wasn't paying close attention, I guess, and suddenly saw in my rear-view mirror that there was a car coming up close in the lane with which mine was about to merge. She had the right of way (assuming she wasn't speeding and suddenly appeared), and there wasn't anything close to an accident, but I felt badly that I hadn't seen her earlier. If she had honked at me, how could have indicated that I was sorry, I wondered. The American Sign Language symbol for "Sorry" is to form the letter "A" with your right hand and run your hand in a circle around your chest. Hard to show to someone behind you.

One could throw their arms up in the air, as if to say, "OMG! I can't believe I did something as stupid as that! I apologize!". Someone in front of me did that once, and I understood, but that could also be interpreted as "Ha ha; I'm not holding onto the wheel" or "I'm fed up with people honking at me". You could pound your fist on the side of your head, but that might hurt and make you go off the road, and the person behind still might not get it.

I think it's important when you make a mistake and anger someone enough to make them blast their horn that you sign your apology in such a way that they realize you're acknowledging your own error, and they are then moved to laugh at the way you're doing it. This diffuses the tension and takes care of the apology at the same time. Perhaps miming a gunshot to your head would work---but they may think you think they should be shot. You could hold up one hand in plain site and slap it with the other, but here again you're letting go of the wheel---always a bad idea. An exaggerated crouch like someone's about to whup you upside the head might work.

The problem with all these ideas is that they aren't universal. There should be one sign that becomes generally recognized as a sign for "I'm sorry" when driving. We all know what shaking your fist at someone or flipping them the finger means; why don't we have a standard sign for something constructive like an apology?

If anyone has any suggestions, let me know. And, if you think it's a clear signal, use it the next time you do something stupid. (Admit it. We all do stupid things occasionally when driving. Admitting it can help quell road rage.) And report back to me if the other party understands. Or maybe I'll just see it pop up some day as it becomes a common sign and spreads throughout the driving public. One can only hope.

And if your gesture is misunderstood, and you get honked at or yelled at again...click here.

Holidays

Today is National Chocolate Covered Raisin Day. I know this because my QlownTown Holiday calendar hangs on the wall across from my desk, and it lists a different holiday or birthday for every day of 2010. It was a lot of work getting the dates together, but the result was so successful that I'm already starting to plan the 2011 calendar. (By the way, not to put in a plug or anything, but copies of this year's calendar are still available online for $10 each. There are still 282 dates to read about in 2010.)

But getting back to today's holiday: I don't particularly like chocolate covered raisins, but I'm glad that people who do have their own holiday. Holidays are generally fun, except for those few religious holidays that are all about atonement, forgiveness, or mourning--but even a little officially-sanctioned sorrow can be good for the soul, too. They're a good excuse to celebrate when nothing in your everyday life warrants it.

I was looking ahead a few days and saw that this coming Friday is Make Up Your Own Holiday Day, and no, I didn't make that up. I read it online so it must be true. I encourage anyone who reads this to send in your own suggestions for a holiday that you've made up. If it's a good one, I may even put it on next year's calendar. Of course, I'm not going to add new holidays willy nilly, because the purpose of the calendar is to provide information---mostly useless information, but information nonetheless---about real holidays. But one or two really good ones might find their way into 2011. If there's a particular date one which you think it should appear, include that too, with an explanation if applicable. The best way is to visit the blog and add your idea under Comments. (This blog also appears in my Facebook page and maybe elsewhere.) If you email dsmith-weiss@qlowntown.com, I can transfer your suggestion to the blog, but it's more efficient to go right to the source.

Tomorrow is Letting Go of Stuff Day. Ironically, it's also Maundy Thursday, which always reminds of the old joke "How can it be Maundy if it's Thursday?", but I digress. So we have a holiday that, every year, mourns a horrible event in Jesus's life which is also a day to stop worrying about things. But there are plenty of other things to let go of; for example, $10 plus shipping for a 2010 QlownTown Holiday calendar--not that I'm plugging anything. You could let go of a grudge you're holding, or let go of some old clothes that don't fit or are out of style, or let go of some anger you're feeling. And Passover is coming up next week, so if you're thinking of getting new stuff to replace the stuff you let go of, just Pass over it. Your life will just get cluttered again.

I tend to forget to look at the calendar every day, and I just discovered that I missed celebrating International Goof-Off Day two days ago. I worked Monday, and now I learn I wasn't supposed to. I guess I'd better pay closer attention to the calendar from now on.

Adjustment

After several weeks dealing with my mother's declining health and ultimate demise, I can feel life returning to normal. I actually colored and uploaded a cartoon yesterday, something I hadn't done for several days--in part because I was wrapped up in family matters, and in part because my internet was down, due, it turns out, to a faulty modem even though all signs pointed to a server problem. Talk about bad timing! To be without internet access when you're trying to coordinate a memorial service, newspaper obituaries and all the other attendant matters of a death? Disastrous! Still, we all soldiered on. The obit will be over a week after the fact, but it will still say the same thing, and simply let people outside the core circle know about her demise a bit later than they would have if I'd acted more quickly. The organizations mentioned will still accept any donations people send, Mom will still have had a long life, and she'll still be gone. I haven't melted or lost my mind. Waves of sorrow appear unexpectedly, but for the most part, I'm handling it well. Part of it may be that I believe in Heaven.

Not the Heaven that we see in movies, books and TV. Not a place where we look the same as we did on earth...although someone made the delightful suggestion that everyone in heaven is in their thirties, because that's probably when most people have some money, have a loving family and are still healthy. I think it's indescribable. I had your basic out-of-body experience on an operating table once, and I recall a sense of calm so free of anything negative that I think I've only experienced that same calm for maybe thirty seconds total in all the years since--with that thirty seconds made up of a second here, two seconds there...we're talking True Peace.

It turns out that my experience was almost identical to that of many people who've "died" and come back. I described it to a friend years ago, having never read anything on the subject, and she told me with wide eyes that mine matched the descriptions she'd read by others who had "come back". Some scientific studies have suggested that neurons and electrical signals in the brain just fire and create these experiences in the brain; that none of it is "real" beyond our thinking it is. That may be true, although I have a very hard time believing it.

But it doesn't really matter, because if a person does just Die when they pass, they still live on in memories and in the people they've raised, befriended, or otherwise affected. I know that's a cliche, but I can't deny that things I do, the way I react in certain situations, little tics or quirks I may have, are all a function of the people I've known.

As a young man, I thought that it was a cop-out when people said someone has "passed" or "passed away", that it was just a way to avoid saying they'd died. Now, I think it's an acknowledgment that they haven't ceased to exist, but that they've moved on to another state. If the atheists are right, it still doesn't diminish the power of the aftereffects of a person's life on earth as a living thing. A life still counts, even after it's done. I'm quite comfortable in not knowing or trying to figure out what the afterlife is, or even if it's a part of some continuum that doesn't fit our conventional notions of Time. I figure it's either what I briefly experienced after floating above the O.R. watching the doctors and nurses rushing around and then "going to the light", or it's something else, or it's just the way we live on in others. I think there's a Oneness that we share and maybe merge into at some point. I don't know. No one does.

My mother passed away last week. Wherever she is or isn't, I have faith that although she's died, she hasn't Died, at least not completely. I have faith that she's in a better place in some form, a form of which I can't conceive; but those who don't believe that will have to concede that when I do something the way she would have, or don't do something because she taught me not to, she's "alive" in that action.

She did something funny that I only learned of after she was gone. A Virgin Mary is sometimes called a Bloody Shame, and, mixing up the two names, she once asked a waiter, unintentionally, for a Bloody Virgin. She was very embarrassed at the time. I just learned, however, that in later years she did the same thing on purpose several times, telling her dining companions and the waiter that she was old now, and didn't have to worry what people would think of her. My mother was always a bit straight-laced; you'd never hear her say anything risque or ironic--or so I thought. Now, whenever I write something sarcastic or edgy, I'll think of her. And if someone is offended, I'll say, "My Mom made me do it."

Anniversary

Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of QlownTown. Yep; I've been drawing this cartoon every day (but five) for the last year. To celebrate, I'm offering a free, signed copy of any QlownTown cartoon to whomever comes up with the best name for the orange-haired woman in the February 30th "Under the Weather" cartoon. She's appeared in several cartoons over the course of the last year, and I think she's an appropriate choice for the first recurring character to receive a real name. Of course, the best entry I receive might be something mundane like Jane or Sue, but I'm hoping for more creative and interesting submissions. Entries can be sent to dsmith-weiss@qlowntown.com. Judging will take about two weeks.

About those five non-cartoon days: no apologies. QlownTown does not yet appear in any newspapers, so I don't have to do one every day. Things came up. Power outages. A party. Still, I hear from many readers that reading the cartoon is the first thing they do in the morning, sort of a start-the-day-off-right pick-me-up. So I'm sorry in that respect. Okay, there's an apology after all. And I still intend to fill in those five days. If and when that happens, I'll let you know.

Anyway, while checking out the fact that the first anniversary is traditionally Paper, I noticed that the second is cotton. Maybe next year, I'll offer a cartoon printed on a pillow. Third is leather, which could suggest a whole new direction for QlownTown. Biker clowns? Clowns with whips? One shudders at the possibilities.

Fourth is fruit or flowers. Can I print a strip on a grapefruit? Would anyone want it? Fifth is wood---a box with a comic strip, of course. By the time of the tenth, Diamonds, I like to think I might be able to offer a QlownTown diamond ring setting. Maybe QT spelled out in diamonds? No. We'll see.

The importance of an anniversary is more about achieving the milestone, not what you give someone to mark it (although diamonds are nice). Since the site was delayed almost a year from when I originally intended to start it online, actually getting a year's worth under my belt feels like it's been a long time coming. I know that with any strip, you can see the evolution during the first year.
I can see the changes in my style over the course of the last year. Stuff that I thought was perfect a year ago looks kind of scratchy to me now...although I still like some of it. Next March, I expect to see even more improvement. Or at least I hope it'll look like improvement.

So for the coming year? Plans include getting the strip into newspapers, using more recurring characters (and naming them), working on the 2011 calendar early enough that it goes on sale in August or September instead of December, and maybe doing a couple of thematic weeks, like the Custer's Last Stand variations of January 25th to the 28th. Maybe even a storyline that extends over a week or so! Let me know if you have any suggestions.