Trudeau brings it home

I fully understand that characters in comic strips are just pen-and-ink representations of things going on in an artist’s mind. That they’re not real.

Nevertheless, in seeing the launch of the current “Doonesbury” storyline in which B.D. becomes a man down in Iraq, my first thought was, “Oh God, poor Boopsie, she couldn’t take it, please don’t let him die.” Which shows just how effective Trudeau’s become in investing us in his cast’s fates.

Spoiler to follow regarding B.D…

Working on CM #25

Got a call from Keith Giffen today regarding “Captain Marvel #25.” He was working on the breakdowns for issue #25, the last issue. As I noted in a previous post, I came with a story so demented that I believed–and still do–that Keith was the only artist who could pull it off. He mentioned to me that when his coming onto CM #25 was announced, the most often heard comment he got from fans was, “What took so long?” Apparently fans feel that we have similar enough sensibilities that we should have teamed up on a project long ago.

We’re on the same page with CM #25. If you want to have some idea of what to expect, think of the classic Chuck Jones cartoon, “Duck Amuck.”

PAD

Chick Flick

In a supermarket yesterday as I was going through the checkout line, I heard a couple of cashier guys chatting and instantly knew what the subject matter was.

“The first one was great, it was like this terrific action movie. But the second one sux.”

Having seen “Kill Bill Vol. 2” today with Kathleen, I fully understand the sentiment. I don’t *agree* with it, but I get where the young guy was coming from.

While “Kill Bill Vol. 1” was the Quentin Tarrantino version of a 1970s Hong Kong action film, “Kill Bill Vol. 2” is QT’s version of–don’t laugh–a chick flick.

If you haven’t seen it but plan to…stay through to the very end for an amusing out take.

Spoilers follow:

An Exciting few days

Turns out that Caroline’s majestic barfing on the flight back from Chicago may not simply have been a response to turbulence. Instead it might have been the precursor to something more problematic. Starting Tuesday, she’s been running a fever on and off, as high as 103.9–which isn’t as dangerous for an infant as for an adult, but still. And she developed a runny nose and cough. But her energy level was still up, and her appetite was fine. So we treated her with fever reducer, kept her fluids up, and waited to see if that would be enough to break what could be a simple flu.

But last night was hellacious, and she was crying in such a way that she seemed in genuine pain. And I thought, “Okay. Ear infection.” We took her to the doctor and, lo and behold…ear infection. Both ears. So now we have her on Amoxyl, a pediatric cure-all so universal that David Steinberg once did a bit as to what it would be like if a pediatrician were the President of the United States. (“Mr. President, what should we do about the Middle East situation?” “I’m thinking Amoxycilin.”)

She’s napping now, making up for all the sleep she lost last night.

Sometimes I can’t believe I’m 47 and doing this all OVER again.

PAD

*PLEASE* let this be thrown out of court quickly

So get this: The Feds nail this guy who’s attempting to smuggle drugs by having swallowed fifty one condoms filled with heroin (he’s what’s traditionally referred to as a “mule.”) He’s brought to Mary Immaculate hospital where laxatives enable him to pass forty four of them. But levels of opiates in his urine prompt doctors to be concerned that one or more of the condoms has ruptured, so they operate and remove the remaining seven. It turns out they weren’t ruptured, but hey, they didn’t feel like standing around and risk just letting the guy die, no matter how scummy he is.

Claiming that he hadn’t given them permission to perform the potentially life-saving operation, and that he “still has nightmares” about it, this transporter of illegal drugs is now suing the hospital for $5 million. This after already having tried, and failed, to sue the Feds for $25 million.

Here’s hoping the judge gives the mule a swift kick in the ášš.

PAD