Now on day 12, the Cases have established trailer life rhythm. Roughly: Comics, eat, hike. Eat, drive, eat. Comics, read, sleep. Sleep more. Repeat.
The sleeping portion came easily. With Dorothy to bed at 7:30 PM, we’re never far behind. Everyone more or less sleeps ’til 7:30 AM barring obedience to my 5:00 AM work alarm clock. Obedience has happened, twice. Taskmaster Jonathan wants a reasonable defense for that behavior, and I do have one… The quality and quantity of my dreams on this trip trumps early morning productivity. I haven’t dreamed big technicolor d
reams like this since college and they’re much better creative fuel than the spoils of un-rested critical thinking. Someone in an old Italian art-house movie (La Dolce Vita?) said people who talk about their dreams are bores, but they were just trying to sound cool. No one writes better dialogue than dreams.
In spite of my justified lazing, work on The Guidebook progresses at a steady pace. I’ve gathered field data for about 50 locations according to my plus-sized Garmin watch, and I’ve filled notebook #1 completely with rough draft pages. I look forward to this weekend and our arrival in Alameda County, where we just might start to see Monarchs in the first of their overwintering sites. Santa Cruz is a more certain bet. Either way we’re very close, and we get to spend most of our remaining travel time in monarch territory. Just look at them there on this migration sighting map (thanks to learner.org). East of the Rockies they’re lousy with monarchs, but in terms of our Western population, the Bay Area’s the place to be.
Signing at The Escapist Comic Book Store – OCT 29
Another upcoming event, also in Alameda county, is my Saturday signing at The Escapist Comic Book Store. Dear Creature’s hardcover edition is the main deal, but they’ll probably have a smattering of my other work, too. Looks like the trade of Superman: American Alien just topped the New York Times bestseller list for graphic novels, so…what else can I say? As one of the six contributing artists on Max Landis’s retelling of Superman-history, I’m one sixth of a yooge deal. Come get yours signed. Get a quick sketch for free if you’re a kid or really nice. Whatever you do, if you’re in Berkeley on Saturday at 1 PM, come say hey.
Speaking of motivating a turnout: What do you think’s required, decoration-wise, to invite trick-or-treaters to a trailer door when said trailer’s parked on a random Bay Area street? Probably depends whether we’re in the Tenderloin or Haight-Ashbury.
I’ll let you know!
Last night we discovered an incredible method to keep energy-riddled Dorothy from tearing apart our trailer’s interior on a dark and rainy night. Sarah asked her, joking, if she wanted to go outside and run around the trailer a few times.
“Yes!” said Dorothy.
We geared her up with her raincoat, rubber boots, and my headlamp and scooted her outside. I asked her, just before shutting the door against the elements and my child, if she could do 10 laps around the rig. She did, pausing only to comment excitedly on her progress or the imaginary obstacles she avoided (a forest of pooping butts was the standout). I really didn’t think she’d make 10 laps, but she blew past every expectation. Visible only via the satellite orbit of her headlamp, Doro’s running monologue bounced passed my window a full 100 times before she reentered the R-Pod, soaked and elated with victory.
She says she’s going to be an astronaut. Sarah thinks maybe a proctologist.
She probably has a good shot at both.