March 5, 2007
I'm still dealing with mortuaries and scheduling for my mother's funeral. As of this morning, they tell me her body won't leave Cody until Wednesday, arriving in Las Vegas that night. Sutton Funeral home in Kingman will drive over and pick her up and bring her back to our home town. My Aunt Jean, Bobbie's youngest sister and the last surviving Guess girl, has reserved a plot near the rest of the family. I've been asked by Lou to bring a yellow scarf for my mother to wear. Yellow was her favorite color. She has a Western outfit, which she often wore and she will be buried in that.
Underwear for Eternity
One of the oddest experiences regarding funerals happened to me when my father passed away (1998). The funeral home asked me to bring two pairs of underwear from his house. Needless to say, I felt awful uneasy about going through my father's dresser drawers to find them. It was, well, creepy is too strong, but I think you get my drift. As I carried the underwear out to the car, it dawned on me that this would be the underwear he will be wearing for a very long time. If that's not an ad for cremation I don't know what is.
I've picked out the yellow scarf and have it set aside.
On Sunday I got this voice message from Thomas Charles in Philadelphia:
"Dude, I'm being sent to Peru, to the Peace Corp. I'm gong to be doing 'Youth Development' and it's right up my alley because I was such a good youth. So I feel I should help other youth be good. Okay, later."
He was being facetious about being "such a good youth," and I have the police reports to prove it, but I admire him for commiting two years of his life, probably working in an Aids clinic in South America.
Also on Sunday, I fed the chickens and cleaned out their water dishes (got six eggs), started the '49 Ford, pulled it out onto the Spanish driveway and washed it off. Took two bike rides with the dogs and Kathy. Went down to the creek and saw the ducks. Lots of water in creek. Very pretty day. Warm. Middle seventies.
I spent most of the weekend studying the graphic novels I bought last Friday. Quite instructive. Learned a whole bunch, but also got rather down on myself. Here's my hand written notes from yesterday:
"I have studied the numerous graphic novels I bought on Friday and I must admit the Top Secret Project is on the verge of collapse. I am in a swamp of multiple styles and contradictory impulses.
"I have very limited skills, especially when it comes to hands and original torso application and especially the continuity of character traits. I have no workable guide to three-quarters of the characters and I am bogged down in two sequences (Heads In Sack, and, Dry Lake-Fire sequence) and could conceivably spend literally months trying to get them right. Sigh.
"I don't seem to have a workable solution to ending the morass either. I've tried several roughing in techniques but I have weak follow-through and I have piles and piles of half-decent artwork—all of which pales in comparison to Frank Miller and other Masters.
"That said, I don't feel they are 'perfect' either, and I know my horses and mules are better than most. Where do I find the key? One thing is for sure—not in analyzing, but in action!"
Reading this today I am embarrassed for writing something so weak and pathetic, but there it is. A bike ride and a talk with Kathy calmed me down (talk about someone who deserves Sainthood!).
If you have the will to win, you have achieved half your success. If you don't, you have achieved half your failure."
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