"Truth or Dare?"

Movie Song

Punch Drunk and Disorderly is a boxing movie that has a lot in common with the classics like Cinderella Man and The Fighter. It centers around a boxer (Mike "Speedy Gonzales" Gonzales) who is nearing the end of his career.  In his early days he showed much promise, but after losing some key bouts, it looked like he would never fulfill his true potential.  After a particularly devastating defeat at the hands of a one armed up-and-comer they called, Tony "Left, left, left," McGregor, Mike found himself walking into a bar.  You see, Mike never drank because he was a Mormon, did I mention that? He plopped down at the bar and asked for the stiffest drink they served.  The bartender whipped up his secret recipe that he called a "Tequila Mockingbird" and handed it to Mike.  He choked it down and asked for another.  This pattern continued on into the night.  

After awhile another patron in the watering hole recognized Mike and said, "Hey! You're Speedy Gonzales Gonzales! Can I have an autograph?"

To which Mike replied, "YOU'RE Shpeedy Gonzales Poopzales, I'll show YOU an autograph!" as he punched the unsuspecting fan in the face.  

He was immediately arrested.  While he sat in his cell at the county jail he looked drunkenly at his hands.  He felt like he never had before, like nothing could hurt him.  He realized that if he drank before every match he could have this same invincible feeling in the ring.  When he was released he started to train diligently, and by that I mean drink often.  He quickly climbed his way back through the amateur ranks and found himself as the lead contender for the belt.  This would surely be his toughest fight yet so he tried to get super drunk.  His trainer pleaded with him to stop drinking fearing for his safety, so Mike dismissed his trainer saying that he already had two trainers, Jack Daniels and Jose Cuervo.  He stumbled confidently into the ring and the bell rang.  Seconds into the fight, Mike was caught with a upper-cut and found himself horizontal above the ring. 

(Cue the Music)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kEjwm_me_s

(Right click and open in new window)

"What a Day for a Daydream" by The Lovin' Spoonful plays as Mike falls in slow motion, looking around at all of the faces in the crowd.  He has a goofy smile on his face, not having any idea where he is.  His trainer ends up coming back and helps him win the title somehow, I haven't written the whole movie yet, just wanted to set up the song.

Pittsburgh's Goin to the Super Bowl

Sunday, January 23

The Road Less Traveled (is rarely plowed)

The Adventures of Richard Garrettson

Chapter Five

The Darkest Hour

Richard walked into the country club like he had every summer and went to talk to the club manager, Mr. Grey.  Richard knew that he would get the job because he had been a reliable worker in previous years, but to his dismay, Mr. Grey wasn't there.  He walked up to the pool to investigate, perhaps if one of the pool or snack bar managers was there he could talk to them.  He found Sam, the pool manager. He explained his situation and asked if he could have his old post back at the tiki bar.  It was his understanding that he would start on memorial day bar tending.  

Memorial day came and when he showed up, there were already two girls working the tiki bar.  Assuming that they were over-staffing the pool for the memorial day rush, he took his post behind the bar.  The two girls seemed surprised that Richard was there, given that there were already two people doing a job that can easily be handled by one, but he didn't let that deter him, he was back at his post, tiki-bar-tending.  

Minutes later Sam came down and sent him home, he was apparently supposed to come in the day after memorial day to get his schedule.  

When he got his schedule, he was only working twice a week, and as nice as that would be, it was no way to get back into a working routine.  He ran into Mr. Grey and asked if there was any way he could get some more hours.

"Do you really want to work?" said Grey.

"Sure do!" replied Richard, thinking that he meant at the tiki bar.

"Good! meet me at the clubhouse tomorrow at 7 a.m. to start with the house crew," ordered Grey.

Richard wondered what he would be doing with the house crew but before he could ask, the conversation was over and he found himself walking back to his car.  7 a.m. was early, but how bad could it be?

He arrived at 7 the next morning and by 7:13 he knew how bad it could be.  It turned out that the house crew sets up for every event that happens at the country club; weddings, graduation parties, concerts.  On his first day Richard was taught how to set up the dance floor, then left to do it on his own.  He set up many-a-dance floor in the following weeks and with each forty pound slab he screwed into place he hoped, that in some small way, someone would hurt themselves on the dance floor that night.

Vacuuming was a big part of Richard's workload.  It was tedious, but sweeping up candy wrappers that young country club patrons threw on the floor had its own sort of, quiet dignity.  Throughout the endless hours of vacuuming, the song, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, by The Beatles became the soundtrack for Richard's day.  He was stopped by a co-worker once because they had already swept the room that he was working on, but there were crumbs visibly scattered on the floor.  "I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping... While my guitar gently weeps." Richard would think.  Another time the vacuum was laboring because he was using the hardwood floor setting on a carpeted room, unaware that vacuums had settings, and was quickly set straight by a different co-worker.  "With every mistake, I must surely be learning... While my guitar gently weeps." Richard sang to himself.

His schedule was the real kicker.  He had Monday and Tuesday off, then he worked every other day from 7 a.m. until 3:30 p.m., usually later.  So if he would ever partake in social events with his friends, or take Begonia out on a date, he did so with the knowledge that he would be waking up at 6 the following morning.  This simply could not go on.  In a last ditch effort to continue on with the country club, he worked out a deal so that a couple days a week, he could work the morning shift on the house crew, then finish up the afternoon tending to the tiki bar.  This managed to keep him from taking his own life with the vacuum cord, but working the weekend mornings was too much for him.  He searched every job option available to him and decided to re-apply to a job at a local pharmacy with his friend Kevin.  He had applied a couple of months earlier and didn't hear back, but when he saw the HELP WANTED sign still hanging in the window, he gave it another shot.  He talked to the manager and set up an interview using his cell phone while he was hauling garbage up to the burn pile at the country club and minutes later he was in Mr. Grey's office putting in his two weeks notice.  He finished his sentence and was finally free from the worst job he ever had.  It was like the escape in the movie, Shawshank Redemption. He had to crawl through a couple of weeks of a poopy sewer job, but in the end he came out of the other side clean.  Well, pretty clean, even though Andy Dufresne flopped into a little creek and it was raining, I'm sure he still washed his hands before eating.

Richard's interview went well and he and his new manager decided that whenever he got back from his family vacation, he would start his new job as a pharmacy delivery driver.  

  

Keystone State of Mind

"Bucking Ham Palace"

The Adventures of Richard Garrettson

Chapter Four

"Unemployed and Fat as Shit"

Richard returned home, out of work, and out of shape.  Without realizing it, he let his weight balloon to over 230 pounds.  He had more chins than a Chinese phonebook has pages.  After taking a couple of days to rest and reacquaint himself with his Pittsburgh friends, (glug, glug, glug) he kicked into gear and got to work.  He got a membership at the local rec center and worked out every morning.  After he finished, he would come home and lock himself in his room, drawing and writing until dinner.  When his website went live, it had several pages that he updated daily.  One for the latest cartoon, one for caricatures of friends and family, and a page where he wrote a humorous advice blog.  After a couple of weeks he realized that some people were actually checking it.  

Things were good again.  Richard spent his days doing the thing that he loved and people were actually responding to it.  For awhile the routine went on.  Five days a week something went up on that blog.  There wasn't necessarily a new cartoon each day but there would at least be some form of blog entry.  This was truly a golden age of cartooning.

Then one weekend, he planned one of his excursions.

On Thursday, after he had finished his blog, he posted that he would be out of the office on Friday and there wouldn't be an entry.  People can't possibly expect him to do one everyday can they?!  But he wasn't letting the readers down, he was letting himself down.

Since he started the website he held himself to a high standard daily, and once he took one day off, why not another? And another...

Soon he wasn't a struggling cartoonist, just an unemployed bum.  Barely able to muster the energy to draw a bath, let alone a cartoon, or even a cartoon of a guy in a bath, lifting little tiny weights with a caption reading: the bath of least resistance. (Hey that's not bad!)  

Spring was coming and as the weather got warmer, Richard realized that he would soon have to find a job.  For years he worked the summers as a tiki-bartender for a country club and he decided that he would try to get that job back as he clawed his way up into the working world.  

He had no idea what Fortuna's cruel wheel had in store for him...

The End of the Kona Ice Saga

This certainly makes me want to join the wrestling team!

The Adventures of Richard Garrettson

The Kona Days

Vol III "The Final Run"

Fall arrived, and with it came El Nino.  The snow cone business that relies on sunny days and overheated children was crippled by the cold temperatures and rain.  Richard was working three days a week if he was lucky and on his days off, he was stuck inside.  The bee population in North America was dropping, and Richard liked to think it was partly thanks to him.  

Times were dark.  The sought after Saturday shifts at the flag football field, turned into boring, cold, pointless endeavors.  You know the saying, "He's so good, he could sell ice to an eskimo."  I think it should be, "He's so good, he can sell a snow cone to a blonde Texas housewife during El Nino, who isn't used to the cold so she doesn't dress warmly enough and when she sees a snow cone truck with a cartoon penguin on it, thinks she ought to ask if they sell hot cocoa, then gets indignant when they don't, and feels that she should tell the salesman that no one is going to buy a snow cone on a day like this, as if he is out there selling snow cones by choice and not because his boss told him to."

Richard was ready for a change.  The Kona experience was a great adventure but it was a temporary solution that was coming to an end.  Richard and Begonia would soon be on their way back to Pittsburgh and the Kona Crew would find new members in the spring.

The long car ride back gave the couple plenty of time to talk about their hopes and dreams.  Begonia talked about different jobs she would like to have and cities she would like to live in, Richard talked about cartoons.  He decided that when he got home, he would create a website to display his portfolio to the world.  He would then send the link to his website to newspapers and magazines and before long he would be the most influential cartoonist of our generation probably.  They got back to Pittsburgh, Richard bought a tablet so he could play around with drawing digitally, and he got back to the  drawing board, A.K.A. his desk.

Professional Cartoonist

I am proud to announce that today, after the PayPal transaction goes through, I will be a professional cartoonist!  I was commissioned by someone outside my family to draw the following...

Commissioned by Matt Huelsenbeck

Now that I am a paid contributor to the art world you may notice a few changes in me.  When people ask what I do, I will no longer say that I am a delivery driver for a pharmacy.  I will say that am an artist as I look off into the distance.  I will no longer wear jeans that aren't skinny, or shirts that aren't VERY deep V-necks.  To keep my neck warm from now on I will use scarfs and when referring to things I don't like I will use words like, "trite."  

Sincerely,

- `Garet

First 'toon of 2011

Newest 'Toon

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.  It has been two months since my last cartoon (watch children didn't count).  I strayed from my normal cartooning schedule due to an influx of caricature orders for Christmas. The patrons got their orders in plenty early but like I did for so many years of schooling, I waited until the last minute and had to work my little buns off to get them finished.  During those sessions I was in a very dark place, and there was no way I could muster up the energy to draw a good ol' fashioned 'toon.  But I am happy to say that I am taking a hiatus from caricatures and I am ready to get back to work.

I hope to finish the adventures of Richard Garrettson within the next two weeks.  There are only two more chapters to go and you do not want to miss the surprise ending, trust me.  

And now the latest creative writing sample submitted by CR...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Burdens a-plenty

 Tereesa was not a woman who shied away from taking advantage of others, and she thought that she had the perfect money making plan...to pose as a struggling art collector.

The plan was simple...go around and befriend local struggling artists, playing on their “struggling artist” sensitivities to weasel them into selling their art for dirt cheap. Once she could confirm that she had a lion’s share of their work, she would see to it that the artist would die of a drug overdose.

Next came the hype campaign; posting positive anonymous comments online about the late artists’ work, inquiring of the masses whether anyone knew where her or his work could be acquired. After a few dozen posts, and the inevitability of one or more morning news shows catching wind of and reporting on the story of an artist overdosing on drugs, she would casually produce works for sale.

She implemented the plan with a dexterity of mind attributable to her ability to forget about those whom she was trampling underfoot in her race to early retirement. As an analogy, Tereesa was to the art world what DeBeers is said to be to the diamond market...the monopoly that controls prices, taking the customer to the ringer.

The only problem, as is often the case with greedy sociopaths, was that she kept collecting. Before long, the long arm of the law had her in its grasp, through a few deft maneuvers, including planting a “struggling artist” in a nearby city for her to prey upon. (While those of you who watch Cops may wonder if Tereesa asked, “Are you a cop?” before buying any of the art, consider the following: 1) remember that this question seems to be quite useless, as deception works in favor of the righteous as well as the morally suspect, and a cop who had ANY training would hopefully say “no” in response to this ridiculous question; and, 2) she needed to befriend the artist, not make her or him suspicious, so the employment of this strategy would not at all have been efficacious.)

After a somewhat lengthy trial and conviction proceeding, and in defense of her unseemly employment, Tereesa was heard mumbling something about the power of the free market as she was escorted out of the courtroom to her jail cell.

Catching as much of what Tereesa had said as is relayed here, and waiting until she was far enough away to do her no harm even if she tried, the dull prosecutor yelled in a rather inappropriate manner above the din of the courtroom, “Not so tough without your free market magic, are ya?!?” The pundits would later remark, not without a bit of hyperbole to drive ratings, that ne’er had a more confusing rejoinder been issued from a prominent personage in a courtroom.

-CR