I’m so pleased that I will be spending my Saturday afternoon, tomorrow, at the wonderful Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa. The folks there will be graciously hosting yours truly as the March Cartoonist-in-Residence. I will be at the Museum from 1-3pm on Saturday, March 13, drawing and eager to talk comics with visitors.
I’m stoked about visiting with Mr. Schulz. I probably read Peanuts every day of my childhood… I read the comics in the Chicago Tribune obsessively, and Peanuts was a staple. After Mr. Schulz passed away (and I believe he was creating up until that day), the Trib started running “Classic Peanuts,” so us young ‘uns got a chance to see the older stuff. And who didn’t grow up with the movies?
It’s funny, but as an adult my perspective is different on ol’ Chuck than when I was a kid. I watched “Snoopy Come Home” a couple months ago (library nerd note: I checked it out from my library, and realized as I did so that it was the first movie I remember checking out from my childhood library years ago as well), and… Well, I remember finding it sad as a kid. But watching it now, it was heartwrenching. What Charlie Brown goes through when Snoopy leaves is like watching the breakup of a marriage. He questions himself endlessly about whether he was good enough to Snoopy. How long this other girl had been in the picture. What was better about her than him. Whether he and Snoopy really had as much fun as he’d thought. It’s kind of awful. In a beautiful way.
Added bonus, I have had the “fundamental friend dependability” song in my head ever since, and really, you could do worse.
Sooo, where’s Bachelor Girl?? Has she transformed yet? Well YEAH. Here’s some new stuff for yis. Two up here, and for the rest, head on over to the comics page.
Shout-outs: so eternally thankful for friends, especially friends who talk to you, sit with you while you read important letters, meet you for smoothies, send you magazines, call just to check, let you cry, hug you repeatedly, make you cocoa, talk you out of ill-advised one-night stands, mail you half a chocolate cake, let you spill your guts even if you don’t know them that well, tell you you’re family, remind you of what you’re worth. If you have a friend like that, please hug them.
(And never pull their football away at the last second—it’s mean.)