I was hoping that I would be making this post to tell you how much fun I had at Darwyn Cooke's appearance at the Smithsonian this weekend. It's no secret how much I idolize Mr. Cooke and love his work. He appeared to do a reading of his adaptation of THE HUNTER by Richard Stark. Newsarama did an article on it here:
Suzanne and I were going to make a weekend of it, getting a room in D.C. and attending the reading with our friends Rod and Leanne Hannah who were also planning to attend. Then it was going to be dinner at our favorite D.C. eatery, The Hard Times Cafe and a Sunday shopping trip to Potomac Mills.
Alas, it was not to be. Richmond almost never gets snow. Even when it falls everywhere else in the state. There's something about the terrain that keeps our temperature slightly higher than surrounding areas. But this year, we've been getting hammered with the white stuff like I haven't seen since my childhood. By the time we would have been leaving for D.C., we'd gotten about 4-5 inches on the ground and traffic accidents were clogging the roads all over the place. So we decided to bag the trip.
On the upside, we got to spend the weekend shoveling snow and digging out our neighbor who'd banged up his truck trying to get out of his driveway. Crap. Remember when 12 inches of snow meant a week off from school spent sculpting snowmen and throwing snowballs at your siblings from elaborate snow forts? Sigh.
Many weeks ago, after the second time Brett Favre beat the Packers in a Vikings uniform, I turned to Suzanne and said, "I can't wait for Minnesota to get the Brett we've had for the last ten years. I hope he gets close enough to the Super Bowl to smell that ring and then throws a season-ending interception. That would be poetic."
Damn. And people say I'M predictable.
Yes, I'm being mean and spiteful. But by putting on that purple uniform, Brett was spitting in the faces of thousands of Packer fans that thought the sun rose and set on him. He could have gone anywhere. But he wanted to make a statement. So I'm entitled to a little vitriol.
That said, I was horrified every time he got hit and FOX would cut up to a shot of his wife Deanna in the stands, almost in tears. As I said to Suzanne, I don't want him hurt. I just want him to lose the game for them. After everything Favre and his wife have been through together the last decade or so, I hope he finally sees that it's over for him and retires. The stress of seeing her beloved husband getting pile-driven by lineman 15 years his junior was evident on her face and terrible to watch. The best thing he could do for her is swallow his monumental pride, take his one Super Bowl ring and untold passing records and go back to Mississippi.
It’s not that I’ve been busy this time. It’s that I have been in a month-long battle with some nasty cold-like crud that hit me around Christmas and was hanging onto me like a drunk coworker at an office party. (All better now, thank you very much.) Plus, I’ve got several new distracting obsessions. (Including writing THE HAND ME DOWN HORROR. I’m halfway through the script for issue two and having a ball.)
Suzanne’s gotten me turned on to an iPhone app called “Words With Friends” which is a Scrabble like, turn-based crossword game. I’d noticed her spending a lot of time with her iPhone lately and, as always, I had to horn in on her action. We’ve been obsessively playing for about four days now. I even stopped halfway through my lunchtime workout yesterday to sit down and take my turn.
We’ve both also been reading Brian Vaughn and Pia Guerra’s Y: THE LAST MAN. I started buying the trades while the series was still going but never read them. I was buying the trades at conventions as cheaply as I could and holding on to them. I didn’t want to get into it until I was sure I could locate them all. This past weekend, I found myself with some time to read and didn’t want to commit to Stephen King’s UNDER THE DOME just yet. So I started in on Y. And couldn’t stop. I burned through all 10 trades in four days. It was a real page-turner. While I was impressed with the solid characterization and the intricate world Vaughn created, I really have to take my hat off to Pia Guerra. Her art isn’t flashy and highly stylized like the youngsters like these days, but she’s consistent, tells a great story and you never, ever have to wonder who’s who. In a book with hundreds of characters, nearly all female, she manages to make sure each and every one of them is distinct and recognizable. And there’s something very attractive and comforting about her style. I really fell in love with her work here. Anybody know what she’s working on now?
(By the way, please don’t spoil the ending in the comments. Suze reads them and hasn’t finished the series yet.)
Christian’s also got me hooked on a bit of a guilty pleasure. I’ve started reading THE BOYS. I’m a big fan of Garth Ennis’ PREACHER and HITMAN but most of his other stuff has left me cold. I couldn’t get past the gratuitous violence and sex and the cursing and overall sleaziness of almost everything he does. And don’t get me wrong, THE BOYS has all that in spades. But underneath all of that is a really good story and some great characters and the thing that is often missing from his work. Heart. I’m really glad I decided to start reading it. If I hadn’t been reading CROSSED (admittedly, for all the reasons I claim to not like Ennis’ work...hypocrite!) I probably wouldn’t have taken the chance on THE BOYS. If you haven’t been reading it, give it a shot.