In late spring of 1994 three Harley’s were parked in front of our small rental on Forest Avenue. My 1971 Harley Ironhead Sportster, Jeff’s 1973 FX kick only Shovel Head, and Richard’s 1980 FXB Super Glide Sturgis Special. Continue reading
For years Jeff and I have talked about going to see a movie at an actual movie theater. We would order the mega soda and the super mega popcorn with butter, and the extra large belly ache box of chocolate raisins. We would walk down the sticky aisle, cram ourselves into those little seats, and pray that some gangly kid who likes to kick their feet doesn’t sit in the row behind us.
Almost five years ago I started drawing comics. I was 47 and had never drawn before. Other than a cat figure my grandmother taught me to draw when I was ten, I never drew anything more than a dollar sign. Writing was always my passion. Writing was the thing I did from an early age, the thing I did without thinking, my go to activity.
I mentioned earlier that I’m taking an online class at Gotham. The class is called Essay and Opinion and covers a broad range topics including the personal essay, op-ed piece and the review.
*WARNING: This post is mostly left brain. My funny bone is temporarily dislodged.
This past year was one of my most creatively productive years yet. Continue reading