Snyder Comics #26 Happy flYing piG dAy!

When Pigs Fly #26

A HAWTHORNE COMMUNITY FAIR MEMORY

A Story from The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son
“Dave Cruz (1979)”

 by Willimam Snyder
 © 2006 William Snyder

The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son is available as an EBook on Amazon.com. The bound version will available in 2012.

BARAK OBAMA AND THE GRIGGITS

This panel ran in the South Bay Easy Reader back in 1984. I'm pretty sure I lifted the cute little aphorism.

For those of you who who are new to the blog, I developed the Griggits when I was in high school. There were teenage daydreams of Griggit tv shows and movies. By the time the Griggits had run their course, there had been t-shirts, cofee mugs, and a comic strip run in a popular Los Angeles newspaper.
Not bad.

As far as Mr. Obama goes, he had absolutely nothing to do with the Griggits.

JIM HARRISON, THE ENGLISH MAJOR, STEVE WAGNER, AND ARROGANT BASTARD ALE

Michigan born writer, Jim Harrison’s The English Major is a pretty good book. After losing a bad wife and a good dog, an old codger by the name of Cliff sets on a road trip/quest to rename all fifty states. Cliff is a high school teacher turned farmer.


Harrison is an outstanding writer. While he’s won all kinds of writing awards, his most famous story is probably Legends of the Fall. Harrison’s succinct and poignant style is reminiscent of Hemingway. It’s funny too. There seem to be a bucket load of allusions to Thoreau and Prairie Home Companion. Works for me. I happen to like Thoreau and Prairie Home Companion – and Hemmingway.


Although I was not English major, I was turned on to the book by an English major, an old pal by the name of Steve Wagner. Steve’s a cool cat, one of those guys who learned early in life to follow his bliss. After spending a few years playing guitar with a semi-successful rock and roll band, he picked up a job in a Portland brewery. A few years later, he and a partner founded the wildly successful Stone Brewing Company, most famous for Arrogant Bastard Ale. I’ve tried Arrogant Bastard and it’s a pretty good beer.


There you have it, a pretty good book and a pretty good beer. My job is done here now.

HARPER BELLA HERNANDEZ AND SOME LESSER EXAMPLES OF BIG MOJO

I have resolved to quit whining and complaining, to shift my focus towards the good mojo. It won’t be easy. Like they say, it ain’t easy to teach an old dog new tricks - and I am an old dog.



The first week of the new year was hectic and my mind is bit scattered, but I’d like to offer you some good mojo:


• Lindsey, my oldest daughter gave birth to Harper Bella Hernandez this week. Harper is named for Harper Lee. My twelve-year-old is named Scout, so Harper makes two Mockingbird girls in the family. She was four hours old when I made it to the hospital. The rest of the family had headed home and I had the honor of holding my grandbaby for forty-five uninterrupted minutes. Looking into the eyes of my four-hour-old granddaughter was nothing short of magic. Thanks to baby Harper, I can chalk up the first week of 2011 as a good mojo week. Let's call it a monster mojo week.


• My 2000 Chevy Astro van is on its last legs. My wife and I have resolved to drive until it breaks down again. Three of the four doors cannot be counted on to open. Today I had to crawl into the driver’s seat from the side sliding door. And I was good with this, feeling something like Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life when the wooden ball at the bottom of the staircase railing came off in his hand. He raised the orb to his mouth and kissed it because the Clarence the angel helped him to appreciate his blessings. Yeah, I felt just like Jimmy Stewart and Harper was my angel. How’s that for good mojo?


• Speaking of Jimmy Stewart, I think he said the keys to happiness are a comfortable bed and comfortable shoes. And I’m going to buy a new pair of shoes today. I’m not screwing around with his mojo thing.


• My daughters tried to teach me to dance The Jerk. I can’t say I learned The Jerk, but I did remember how to dance The Running Man. I’ve been dancing The Running Man a lot lately.


• I began teaching in 1986 when I was twenty-six. It’s kind of strange going to a job where nobody ages but me.


• Finally, there are some exciting new developments with my book, The Eight Fingered Criminal’s Son. I’ll fill you in as soon as the new plan is solidly in place.


• Thanks for reading and Happy New Year.

SNYDER COMICS #25

SOARING SWINE #25

THE FIGHTER - Gatti v Ward 1 Round 9

The Fighter is an outstanding film. Mark Walberg's portrayal of Micky Ward is the best thing he's done since he was a member of The Funky Bunch. And Christian Bale's portrayal of Ward's crack addicted brother is also pretty impressive. It's the best Bale performance I've seen. Come to think of it, it's the only Bale performance I've seen. Seriously, this flick is worth the ten bucks. And you don’t need to be a boxing fan to appreciate this movie
 I did a little YouTube surfing and found some of Ward’s old fights. The Sanchez fight in my last posting was reenacted in the film. The filmmakers didn't need to exaggerate the drama. The actual footage of Ward's fights with Arturo Gatti, who recently passed away, was more exciting than the bloody fights of the Rocky films. Check out this clip. Both of these men had hearts of lions.

Micky Ward vs Alfonso Sanchez Round 7

You can download THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON at Amazon.com for a measly 5 bucks by clicking on this link:                                        

        http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4

Round seven of the Ward Sanchez fight is dramatized in the new film, The Fighter. By round seven, everybody had counted Micky Ward out – except Micky Ward. This footage proves that boxing is a metaphor for life. Nobody gets to count us out. It’s really not over until we say it’s over. And I don’t know about you guys, but I think I have a vicious kidney shot or two left in my arsenal. I’m in the late rounds so I’m going to need to launch my best punch real soon.

JOHN WAYNE'S GHOST - Part 1

John Wayne’s Ghost
by William Z Snyder
© 2008 William Snyder

Chandler, Arizona - 2009

                                                                                1.

Too Hectic to Blog

ARGHHHHHH!
Things are a little too hectic to blog. I'll be back in a couple of weeks...

IS STEVE MCQUEEN ALIVE AND CUTTING HAIR IN CHANDLER, ARIZONA? William Z. Snyder Sticks it to the Man - Part 3

Part three? It seems like I banged out part one a heckuva long time ago. Let’s see, there was the attempted haircut at Supercuts. Or was it Great Clips? Doesn’t matter which corporate joint it was, they’re all the same. The employees were rude and nasty.



Part two involved a satisfying fantasy in which I slugged it out with the rude and nasty low level representatives of everything that’s wrong with the corporations of the world.


Part three goes something like this…


The following Saturday, I found myself with a raggedy head of hair and a couple of free hours. It was time to get old school. I got in my car and searched for an old time, mom and pop operated barbershop. I must have driven past a dozen Supercuts, Great Clips, and Super Clips before a spotted an honest to goodness barber shop pole.


It was a small place. There were three barbers and four chairs. The football game was on the television. Two guys were cutting hair. The third barber looked like an old-guy version of Steve McQueen. None of these guys wore eye make-up or metal in their faces.


When the barber asked how he could help me, I fought back the urge to order pastrami on rye, asking instead for a haircut. Come to think of it, the guy sounded a little like Steve McQueen. He took his time, stopping to watch the football game often. I had almost forgotten the pleasure of an old fashioned haircut, complete with hot shaving cream and a straight razor. Yeah, it was a relaxing experience, not a lot of conversation, and that was ok.


I paid up and was on my way. The price was fifteen bucks, three dollars more than at the corporate owned joint. The guy gave me a pretty good hair cut, considering what he was working with. As a matter of fact, it’s the best haircut I’ve had in a long time, well worth the extra three bucks.


I stuck it to the man and you know what? I’m going to keep on sticking it to him! No more soulless, sociopathic corporate owned haircutting joints for this guy.

Oh, there’s one more thing; I distinctly heard one of the other guys call my barber Steve. Makes you wonder…

WILLIAM Z. SNYDER STICKS IT TO THE MAN - Part 2

...continued from William Z. Snyder Sticks it to the Man - Part 1.

Backing my car out of the parking space, I noticed the Supercuts guy in the window. Would you believe me if I told you he was giving me the stink eye? Well, that’s exactly what the little creep was doing. So I waved him off with the palm of my hand. Believe it or not, the nut job nut raced out from Supercuts and kicked the side of my car with his meticulously shined steel toed Jackboots. Before I had time to react, the kook tore the windshield wiper away from my car.


He was out of his mind. Quite frankly, I’d taken all I could take.

It was on.


Slamming the car into neutral, I threw the door open and sprang from my car, ready to brawl it out with my antagonist.


“I’m not taking any more crap from anybody!” he screamed, winding his boot back to kick.


But I was ready and I wasn’t in any mood to take any crap myself. I caught his foot and sent him crashing onto the sidewalk.


My adrenaline was pumping.


“Get up!” I shouted, waving him toward me.

Someone leapt unto my back and wrapped an arm around my throat.


“Leave Marvin alone, you big galute!” screamed the woman on my back.


Marvin staggered back to his feet and came after me with my windshield wiper. Before he had a chance to swing, I cracked him in the nose with a hard, short right. Marvin dropped back to the sidewalk holding his profusely bleeding nose.

The woman on m back began digging her fingernails into my throat and gnawing on my right ear as two other female Supercuts employees rushed toward me from the front door. Reaching over my shoulder I grabbed the assailant on my back by her blouse, ripped her loose and a launched her into her charging coworkers. They fell like bowling pins.


It was over As Quickly as it had started. Marvin was crying and the girls sat shaking their heads, trying to make sense of the birds and stars.


Placing my hands on hips, I threw my head back and laughed heartily


“How do you like them apples, Supercuts people?”


OK, that’s not really what happened. Guess I got a little carried away at the keyboard. I’d be lying if I told you that somewhere in the darkest recesses of my psyche, I didn’t enjoy fanaticizing about letting loose.


As for the real story of how I stuck it to the man, you’ll have to wait until next week.

"What Teachers Make," by TAYLOR MALI

WILLIAM Z. SNYDER STICKS IT TO THE MAN - Part 1

For too many years I’ve been supporting the sociopathic corporations of the world by bringing my haircut business to the Supercuts conveniently located less than a mile from my home.

Not anymore, brother.



I’m sticking it to the man, baby.

It all started when I drove down to the local Supercuts for a quick buzz job last Sunday afternoon. Stepping through the door I was not greeted by a swooshy thirty-something hair stylist hairstylist with a whole lot of eye makeup and a half-dozen pieces of metal sticking out of his face. Three hairstylists were snipping away on their customers. Mister second rate Marilyn Manson finished sweeping up a pile of hair before casually strutting up to the counter.

“Can I help you?” he said, avoiding any semblance of eye contact and making it clear that helping me was the last thing he wanted to do.


“Can I get a tuna fish sandwich?”


This is my stock line for the ever changing array Supercuts employees who consistently ask me that ridiculous question.


“Right. We’re closed. We close at three, I’m sorry.


“Right,” I said turning and heading back to the car.


I really didn’t want that guy cutting my hair anyway. Inside the car, I turned the ignition key and the clock read 2:58. That’s when it hit me. It was time to find a new joint to cut my hair. Over the thirteen years I’d been frequenting the corner Supercuts, I’d received a few bad haircuts and a lot of mediocre haircuts, but they had only cut my hair the way I wanted twice. I usually shrugged and reminded myself that the difference between a bad haircut and a good haircut is about two weeks.

2:58.

I was tired of being pushed around by soulless corporations. Soulless corporations wear different faces too. On this particular day they wore the face of a thirty five year-old weirdo with eye makeup and a whole mess of metal stuck too his face who didn’t even bother to give up a courtesy laugh for my tuna fish sandwich line.

To be continued…

Snyder Comics/Soaring Swine #24

WHO AMONGST US HAS NOT ASKED THIS PRESSING HISTORICAL QUESTION?

Bad Joke of the week:

What kind of hot dogs should be eaten on Halloween?

Halloweenies

I stole this bad joke from an episode of Happy Days.