Cave Dwellers

Give it all to me:
white light, intense fear of whatever slumbers in the dark
Give me the wet cavern of your flooded mouth
opening always to places much bigger, darker, wetter, and less tame

We are inhabited by unseen
forms of life that squeal and squirm and leave
trails of slime behind them as they move
Here, hidden deep within the bowels of earth

Moan for me, your satisfaction
lifting like bats to fly — startled,
majestic, blind — deep into the soul
of a hollow, abandoned poet

Cum my love, chalky minerals drip
from tips of stalactite syllables
Crystallizing here, in the echo
and footprints and tufts of fur — our hibernation

Plunging me into the near future
I am waking up; give it to me
Give it all to me: hunger, claws, teeth
Meeting me here will be the only truth you will ever need

Not every lost has a found

Lytton Bell has published five books: A Path before Winter (1998), The Book of Chaps (2002), Nectar (2011) Poetica Erotica, Volume One (2012) and Body Image (2013), won seven poetry contests and has been the featured reader at many California literary venues.  Her work has appeared in over three dozen publications. She is a founding member of the poetry performance troupe Poetica Erotica. As a teenager, Lytton won a scholarship to the Pennsylvania Governor’s School for the Arts, where she studied with Deb Burnham of the American Poetry Review and the late Len Roberts, author of The Silent Singer.  Lytton graduated magna cum laude from Bryn Mawr College. She is a civil servant by day.

After the Gazebo

She felt it in her toes that morning, dread that she would shove into ivory heels and dance on beneath heavy clouds. He felt a surge of adrenaline that he thought must accompany every man on his wedding day.

Everything had been set in motion four months ago, when they adopted a pug that had been abandoned in a nearby apartment complex. They were unsure if they’d have the proper amount of time to devote to the puppy, but the pug’s bunched face and little square body seemed perfect. It would be a responsibility test, a sort of trial run before they had children.

The pug had dermatitis between his folds, which cost money to correct, as did his shots and medications. It was enough to tear a small hole in their new car fund, so they had to reevaluate which year and model they’d go for. The lesser car they picked still had good reviews, and the salesman even said—when he realized they weren’t the best negotiators and had told him exactly what their real budget was—that it was probably more durable than a lot of the newer ones. The couple’s fate was sealed when she drove the car off the lot, when he inserted the CD he’d brought along, just in case. “Ocean Breathes Salty” began the soundtrack. They drove all day, speeding along the peripheral of the city, and stopped for Jamaican jerk chicken at a restaurant they decided they must return to regularly.

A month passed and they were still not sure about a name. He enjoyed eating and watching *Animal Planet*, so they babied and indulged him until he was overweight. They learned everything they could about the breed and how best to care for him, and finally put him on a diet. They decided on a name after reading that the strange little forehead wrinkle that pugs share is referred to as a prince mark because it resembles the Chinese symbol for prince.

They enjoyed taking Prince on lazy walks after work. They often ate out and met up with friends on weekends. She got a corporate job that replaced her occasional gigs as a yoga instructor. She hated the work but made a lot of friends, fast, and thought it an okay trade for the time being. He too had a corporate job, but he rather enjoyed it.

She gained five pounds. He gained ten. They joined a gym a few months before the wedding. They made resolutions often. They both wanted to be somewhere else, but were unsure exactly where. They lived near his family but far from hers, so they often spoke of moving somewhere in the middle. Her sister would call late at night, upset about her husband being out late. She wanted to be closer, to be able to go over and watch bad movies and make orange cinnamon rolls with her sister, tell her she deserved better.

The day of the wedding, they awoke five hours and twenty minutes before they had to be at the meeting center by the gazebo. Their wedding would be outside, in a park where they first met. Both had been joggers.

It would be a small ceremony. She would wear her mother’s ivory dress, still a touch tight around the hips. He would wear his OSU pin on his slant-striped gray tie. She would pick up her mother and sister from the hotel they insisted on staying at because the couple’s apartment was still quite small. Just fewer than forty people would surround them as they took their vows at Abaline Park at 2PM. It was the perfect wedding size, they agreed.

Prince had a habit of jumping up and down before treat time, after walk time, and this always made her giggle; her giggling always made him want her. It was wedding day morning. She laughed at his pitched pants and serious stare when she walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t laugh. Instead, with only hours remaining, he rushed her, moved his fingers along her belly beneath her shirt, lifted her sideways and took her to their bedroom where they would forget the world for almost an hour. Last time as a single man, he said. She pushed him off and flipped over. When they remembered the world, they freaked out and ran around the apartment frantically.

They kissed goodbye. She took the car and thought about how lucky she was. She had heard horror stories about friends’ weddings, but she knew hers would be perfect. There wasn’t a fake or a placeholder in the bunch. She was genuinely close to everyone who would be there.

Her mother, an artist, presented her with a black and white painting of Prince when she arrived at the hotel. She laughed and loved it. Her sister worked hard to laugh with them and then explained her husband couldn’t attend due to work. It had been last minute. The sisters embraced.

Prince refused to wear the doggie tux; she understood this. She clipped a bowtie to his collar. She hoped he would remember to pack the treats and the collapsible water dish. His father was picking him up. His mother was in a wheel chair after having reconstructive foot surgery a few weeks back. They lived close by, and she would come right before the ceremony. She was a loud, beautiful woman. Her three grown children, husband-to-be included, had blinged out her chair while she was in surgery, so that she now called it her throne.

The gazebo was perfect. His cousin, who had taken on the role of wedding planner, had done everything right. Nothing was overdone. The couple didn’t see each other until the vows. The sky was overcast but with no threat of rain. The clouds framed them in pictures. The couple kissed. Prince jumped up and down at the dance after. His mother danced in her chair. Her mother sketched the children’s faces. Her father smoked cigars with his father as they talked about drone strikes and then football and then the quality of their cigars.

The recall notice hadn’t reached them because they’d forgotten to write the apartment number down on the paperwork and his email had filtered the e-copy to junk. This would strike the parents as ridiculous after, seeing as how all the bills had reached them just fine. The recall notice concerned hyper acceleration and asked that all owners of the make and model and year bring the car in for a free check. The parents would become angry and file a lawsuit. It would be a large suit, and they would become quite rich and they would become angrier that they had to become rich in this way.

His mother’s foot would heal perfectly, and she would walk with only a slight limp to the two graves that sat alongside the back of the yard by an old, abandoned house that the city was unsure what to do with. The family would gather here on the anniversary of the couple’s wedding, and they would sob and laugh and smoke cigars.

They would talk about the circumstance of death and fate, what must line up in order for it to have happened like this on their wedding day. The family would eventually come to know that it was not the dealer’s or manufacturer’s fault alone. The car had surged when he hit the brakes after seeing that the driver of the SUV didn’t see them and was taking over the lane.

The family was rich, so incredibly rich, but it didn’t matter. The money did not reconcile the odd chain of events—how the SUV eventually did see them but their momentum had caused the tail end hit, that slight hit, that sent their small car spinning into the median strip. It was instantaneous for him. It was drawn out for her. She had that brief window, a chance to say goodbye. She’d told her sister that she knew, somehow, that she had thought it was just cold feet.

The family was smaller now. The sister had divorced. Her mother had fallen ill and no longer painted. The nieces and nephews were now teenagers, rendering themselves and the cousins mostly unreachable. The sister would become pregnant soon after a fling.

Prince would live with the sister and would rest his wrinkly head on her belly as he listened to her daydream about finding a love like her sister had found. He would comfort her when she came home with child and would spend hours staring at the floor, unable to sleep. He would mind the child and growl at men the sister would bring home. Until his final years, Prince would continue to comfort the sister, but he would never jump up and down for her. Instead, he would conserve his energy to his last day, spending his every night at the door, waiting, unable to believe in fate.

(This piece was originally published in ARDOR. )

Jen Knox grew up in the Midwest and lives Texas. She works as a creative writing instructor at San Antonio College and an editor at a research firm. Her short fiction earned the Global Short Story Prize in 2011 and was chosen for Wigleaf’s Top 50 list in 2012. Some of her work can be found in ARDOR, Bound Off, Burrow Press Review, Istanbul Review, JMWW, Monkeybicycle, and Narrative. Her website is : http://www.jenknox.com

In the Secret of Night

in the secret of night

in a room as black as pitch

fireworks ignite

roaming head to toe

until our souls twitch

in the secret of night

bodies gasp for air

hands clutch sheets

two strangers in search of something to make them complete

no names

no games

no attachments

no hurry

no strings

no rings

no inhibitions

no worry

I savor the taste

as I bite down on the pillow

in the secret of night

when our bodies connect

I know you not

I owe you nothing

but I still let you collect

in the secret of night

we know it isn’t love

and we know we know better

than to let that stop us

but for a few moments

I feel love

from someone I’ve never met before

I live life without regret

and even the score

no strings

no rings

no inhibitions

no worry

no names

no games

no attachments

no hurry

in the secret of night

For more information on Ciruelo Cabral’s work or to purchase prints and various other merchandise please see Dac Editions.

Thirty-two

What beauty imparted was more than skin deep.

Truth hung upon her every word.

Once he described her as misunderstood, she raised the bottom line.

Truth claims this didn’t begin as nine lines, it was the mind.

He always says believe me, as if no one ever does.

Nobody’s convinced he’s dead, and from the grave, he says so be it.

Truth was usually so lost in thought,

he couldn’t recall what he came in for.

Many times, he’d have to close his eyes to remember.

From The Mind (Salmon Poetry, 2011)

John FitzGerald is the author of The Mind (Salmon Poetry, 2011), the novel in verse Spring Water (Turning Point Books prize 2005), and Telling Time by the Shadows (Turning Point Books, 2008). His fourth collection, Favorite Bedtime Stories, is forthcoming from Salmon Poetry in 2014. He has contributed to the anthologies From the Four Chambered Heart: In Tribute to Anais Nin (Sybaritic Press, 2013). Poetry: Reading it, Writing it, Publishing it (Salmon Poetry 2009) and Dogs Singing: A Tribute Anthology (Salmon Poetry 2011) as well as to many literary magazines. He is a dual citizen of the United States and Ireland.

From her role as Broadway’s original Rizzo in Grease to her television roles on Maude, The Twilight Zone, The Drew Carrey Show, Carnivale, Grey’s Anatomy, Revenge and countless others, to her appearances in films such as Fog, Creepshow, Swamp Thing, and Escape from New York, to lending her voice to Catwoman on Batman: The Animated Series, Adrienne Barbeau has proven herself one of the most versatile actress in the business today. She recently wrapped up filming for a role on Sons of Anarchy which will air this November. Her latest novel Love Bites is available on Amazon.com in ebook form.

What were you like as a little girl? What would you say are your fondest memories from that time?

I honestly don’t remember much of my childhood before the age of 12. Except for spending summers on my grandparents 20 acre grape farm in Selma, California. My cousins and I played a lot of Monopoly, I helped my grandmother make Armenian food, and wrote long, long letters with plays I made up with titles like The Secret Life of Kenny Turner. I have a feeling Kenny Turner was a 5th grade classmate.

 Did you always have a love of acting or did that develop later on? What first sparked your interest in it?

Someone told my mother I could sing, so she decided I should study voice. When I was 15 and working as a receptionist in a beauty salon, my boss suggested I audition for a production of The King and I being staged by the San Jose Civic Light Opera. They cast me as Tuptim and I began doing musicals.

Is it true you got your start working for the mob as a go-go dancer? What was that like? What did you learn from that whole experience?

The best answer to this question can be found in the chapter titled Matty’s Mardi Gras in my memoir There Are Worse Things I Could Do. I didn’t know it at the time, but my boss was a top guy in one of the “five families”. Or something like that. And I’ve been told that we girls who worked at Matty’s were the very first discotheque dancers in New York. What did I learn? The meaning of the word SWAG.

 What was it like to have to appear nude in front of an audience for Stag Movie? Do you think the world is too uptight when it comes to the subject of nudity?

Stag Movie was an Off-Broadway musical I starred in after playing Tevye’s daughter Hodel in Fiddler on the Roof for two years.  I hadn’t originated the role in Fiddler, I was a replacement, and so I had yet to be reviewed as an actress in New York. And that’s what I needed as the next step in my career. So when Stag Movie came along, with the opportunity to sing and dance my way through 15 musical numbers- albeit several of them in the nude – I just saw it as my next job. Oh, Calcutta had been playing for awhile, and Hair and Let My People Come. I was more worried about how well I was singing (upside down on a raked stage at one point) than what I wasn’t wearing while I was doing it.

How did you feel when you first gained the status of a sex symbol? What are your feelings on that in general?

I never saw myself as a sex symbol and it certainly wasn’t something I was trying to achieve. I don’t mind the label, though, as long as I’m happy with the work I’m doing.

 What advice would you offer the women of tomorrow and women in general in regards to body image versus true beauty?

Several years ago, Sixty Minutes did a segment on Anouk Aimee. She must have been in her fifties at the time. Every line on her face screamed sensuality. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. That’s beauty – the self-acceptance she personified. Every time I see someone who’s mucked up their face with fillers or Botox or surgery, I cringe. Do they really think they look better than they did when they looked real?

Do you prefer stage work to filmed work or do you love both equally?

It really depends on the role. Although I’d much rather start work at 6 a.m. than 8 p.m.

 Did you ever imagine when you started your career you have appeared in over 25 musicals and so many television shows ?

I never really thought about it. Just took the career one step at a time. I love what I do; it’s never once felt like work to me. Having a job is a gift.

 How do you think the industry has changed most since you first began working in it?

Ways too numerous to mention. Tabloid journalism leading to careers based on something other than talent. Reality television. The proliferation of cable programming. Businessmen making creative decisions. Some of it good, some not so good, but major changes nonetheless.

Do you have any interesting stories from over the course of your career that you might be able to share with our readers?

Now for that, you’ll really have to read the memoir.

 Are there any characters you have portrayed that you hold most dear?

I love Ruthie in Carnivale, Stevie Wayne in The Fog, Billie in Creepshow, Maggie in Escape From New York, Golde in Fiddler on the Roof.

What was it like to give birth to twins at the age of 51? Do you think your parenting style changed much with their arrival as opposed to your first child?

I was 38 when I had my first son, so, no, my parenting style was pretty well established. I’m incredibly patient and probably a little too permissive, and I try always to understand life through my boys’ feelings.

 What do you love most about being a mother?

All of it – except having to cook dinner for 3 boys who don’t like any of the same foods the others do. We order out a lot.

 What led you try your hand at writing?

That’s also in the memoir. I believe my closest friend, who’d died from breast cancer, sent me a message that that’s what I was supposed to do. Doesn’t get any weirder than that!

What can your readers expect from Love Bites?

Love Bites is a witty (well, I think it is) detective novel about a Hollywood Scream Queen (they say write what you know) who happens to be a vampyre. In fact, she’s the head of the Vampyres of Hollywood (who are most of the A-list actors, including Orson Welles and Charlie Chaplin.) It’s sexy and fun and it gave me a chance to tell stories (about my business) out of school.

 Are there any little known things about you that your fans might be surprised to learn?

I’ve never liked the taste of alcohol, don’t care much for water, and drink at least a quart of grapefruit juice a day.

 What projects are you working on at the moment?

Just filmed an episode of Sons of Anarchy and I’m writing the third book in the Vampyres of Hollywood series.

 How do you hope to be remembered when your time comes?

A great mom, a loving friend, and someone who was good at what she does.

 Anything you’d like to say in closing?

I’m on Twitter  @abarbeau  and Facebook – the Adrienne Barbeau page where I talk about my sons’ soccer team is the one that’s really me, and my website is abarbeau.com. And I’d love it if all your readers bought the ebook version of Love Bites which is available on Amazon and really cheap!

I Haven’t Done with You

No,

I haven’t done with you,

Nor after all that waiting.

It’s quarter after two,

And I’m recuperating.

You are the  choice I’ve made,

And that was just beginners

Though Pandarus parade

All his Olympic winners

In a row.

So

Don’t be so pitiful,

Disconsolate, downhearted.

You’re as desirable

As you were  when we started,

As delicately damp,

As downy, as delicious,

But even  Aladdin’s lamp

Could only grant three wishes

In a row.

Photo by Dylan Kenin

Robert Patrick is an American playwright, poet, lyricist, and short-story writer and novelist. His latest books are A Strain of Laughter and Bitter with the Sweet. 

Painting by Michelle Basic Hendry

The Not-Here

I.

The attic windows whispered to the steamer trunk.

I heard it. I heard it.

“Not-here. Not-here.”

Aunt Fortuna’s camelhair coat nudged

The bald, legless mannequin. “Not-here.”

The basement boiler told the washing machine,

Which told the dryer, which told the laundry sink.

The letters spurted from the tap in 12-point

Times New Roman.

N-O-T-H-E-R-E.

“By whom shall the Knower be known?

The self is described as not this, not that.”

The Upanishads

II.

The attending physician informed the head nurse,

Who conveyed the data to the needle.

The analgesic was an effective dose of not-here.

A heart beats like the clock on the corridor wall,

The heart—his heart—reconsidered as analogue.

“Hour gone,” says the clock on the wall.

“Follow me,” the flatline says, “to the not-here,

Not the not-there, which is the now-here,

But the not-here … the not-here … the not-”

Joel Allegretti is the author of four collections, most recently,Europa/Nippon/New York: Poems/Not-Poems (Poets Wear Prada, 2012). His second book, Father Silicon (The Poet’s Press), was selected by The Kansas City Star as one of 100 Noteworthy Books of 2006. Allegretti’s poetry has appeared in many national journals, including Smartish Pace, The New York Quarterly, Fulcrum and PANK. He wrote the texts for three song cycles by Frank Ezra Levy, whose work is released on Naxos American Classics. Allegretti is a member of the Academy of American Poets and ASCAP.

“Ceridwen” by Christopher Williams

My Mother Ceridwen

The light on the icon,

the way I see her in my dreams,

the core of her at the edge of darkness

in a magic cauldron always full,

never exhausted,

that brings her back to life

guarded by a golden serpent

coiled in the shape of an egg,

the world snake marshaling

inner reserves,

the seed of a new journey,

a glimpse of the mysterious and elusive,

a woman in a wreath made of morning glories.

This is how she lands on the page,

slanted, looking out in space,

integrated within me

save the blue sky across her face.

From Life in Suspension, forthcoming from Salmon Poetry.

Hélène Cardona is a poet, linguist & actor, author of Dreaming My Animal Selves (Salmon Poetry, 2013), winner of the Pinnacle Book Award and the 2014 Readers’ Favorite Award in Poetry; The Astonished Universe (Red Hen Press, 2006); and Life in Suspension (Salmon Poetry, 2016). Her translation Ce que nous portons (Éditions du Cygne) of What We Carry by Dorianne Laux came out in September 2014.

She also translated Beyond Elsewhere by Gabriel Arnou-Laujeac, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Renard, Crickillon, René Depestre, Ernest Pépin, and her father José Cardona. She holds a Master’s in American Literature from the Sorbonne, taught at Hamilton College & Loyola Marymount University, and received fellowships from the Goethe-Institut & Universidad Internacional de Andalucía. She is Chief Executive Editor of Dublin Poetry Review and Levure Littéraire, and Managing Editor of Fulcrum. Publications include Washington Square, World Literature Today, Poetry International, The Warwick Review, The Irish Literary Times, & many more.

Acting credits include Chocolat, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, The Hundred-Foot Journey, X-Men: Days of Future Past, Muppets Most Wanted, World War Z, Mumford, and Happy Feet 2. For Serendipity she co-wrote with director Peter Chelsom and composer Alan Silvestri the song Lucienne, which she also sang.

Guy Gilchrist is best known for his work as writer and illustrator of one of the longest running internationally syndicated comic strips Nancy. Guy took over the strip in 1995. At age 24 he was hand selected to create Jim Henson’s Muppets Comic Strip, he was later instrumental in helping create the Muppet Babies series. His work has graced such notable cartoons as Looney Tunes, Tom & Jerry Fraggle Rock, and The Pink Panther. His work is also on permanent display at the Smithsonian.

What were you like as a child growing up?

 I loved comics and music and cowboys. I loved playing baseball. I was primarily raised by my single mother, so we didn’t have a lot of worldly possessions, but I had a lot of time to draw and pretend.

 What are your fondest memories from back then?

My fondest memories are being with my grandfather in the woods and at his cottage on the lake in Connecticut.

Do you happen to remember what you love to draw most as a kid?

 I liked copying Woody Woodpecker and Popeye off of the television set but mostly, I would copy the cartoons that were printed in the newspaper.

When did you first take an interest in art?

 There has never been a time when I wasn’t interested in art. My mom told me that when I was still in diapers, I took some chalk or something and while she was in the kitchen, I drew on the wall. When she saw it, she could tell that it was Mighty Mouse holding up a big car full of cats. I got spanked, but I don’t think she erased it.

 Who are some of your biggest influences?

 My biggest influences were Walt Disney, Roy Rogers, Dr. Seuss, Walter Lantz and Hank Williams.

What was it like to be chosen to do Jim Henson’s Muppets Comic Strip?

 Beyond any dreams anyone could ever have.

Did you ever get the chance to meet Jim, himself?

I worked very closely with Jim Henson. He took a great interest in the comic strip and everything about it. Jim was a huge comic strip fan, especially Pogo…he loved the old Pogo comic strip and thought that my artwork was similar. Jim hired me and my brother over 200 very experienced, very professional and wonderful artists and writers. I was so young but Jim had many gifts—one of those gifts (unless you knew him, you wouldn’t know about it) was that he could see inside your creativity and intensity and see what “the best of you” truly was. He knew how good you could be before you could even imagine being half that good. Anybody that worked for Jim became much greater than they ever dreamed of just because we wanted to please him and never let him down.

 Why do you think his work has left such a lasting impression on the modern world?

 His work leaves an impression on the world because it was the best there ever was—it was funny, it was honest, it was true and heartfelt. Oh…and did I say, it was funny? (re-emphasis). Anytime you have a real genius who puts every ounce of his imagination and energy into something, it will always be remembered and it will always make the world a better place.

Was it fun to help create Muppet Babies?

 Of course. I got sent the film clip of the dream sequence from Muppets Take Manhattan where the world would first see them…and being the guy that every day was drawing cartoon versions of Jim’s puppets, he wanted my take on what the new puppets would look like as cartoon characters. I loved working on them, helping to establish a story arc and then creating so many toys and games and all that good stuff. (Laughs) I have a lot of musician friends that tour the country and they get great joy out of going into antique shops and taking pics of my Muppet Babies toys and texting them to me. Get it? Because the toys are now antiques, they are razzing me that I’m REALLY old.

Jim Davis once said working on Comic Strips has allowed him to never grow up and stay young at heart. Would you agree with that?

 Jim Davis has been so successful, I will agree with anything he says (grinning). By the way, Jim is one of the most giving and generous guys in the business and he’s always been there when we needed him for charities (you know donation of artwork…that kind of thing). I do agree with Jim that we get to play and draw funny things on paper and call it a job. Even though sometimes the deadlines can really press you, I have to say I’ve always felt like I’ve been way, way, way too blessed to be able to do what I do. I never end any interview without saying how grateful I am for anyone who has read any of our stuff, bought any of our stuff or come to our shows or events, because they are the reason I get to do what I do. And I never, for one moment, take it for granted.

 Why do you think comics, whether in strip or book form, have always been so popular?

 Comics are “of the people.” They are written for everybody and through the pictures, even if you can’t read yet, you can usually follow the story. Also, holding that piece of printed, colorful paper in your hand…it seems to always make somebody pick up a pencil and on their napkin, or school paper, or whatever, try to draw the character…whether its NANCY or Superman or Snoopy. I think, from a very early age, the pictures and then the words connect with us on a very personal level.

How does it feel to have your work on display at the Smithsonian?

 Like I’ve been stuffed and mounted, on display myself smelling like mausoleum preservative. (Laughs) It’s funny, of all the places that my work is displayed, I feel a bit like a mummy whose on display and running around. But seriously, it’s one of the greatest honors I’ve ever had because one of the pieces on display was requested by President and Mrs. Reagan and there is NO WAY that a kid that learned to draw cartoons on placemats in a diner with the newspaper funnies while his mom worked as a waitress could have ever seen a day when the road from that diner would ultimately lead to the White House!! But it did and every time I see that quote or that section in my bio, it absolutely blows my mind. A lot of people ask, “How can I be successful? How can I be a millionaire?” and I tell them to try really hard, never quit, and above all, always do what you say you will do. It will blow people’s minds. That’s the secret—make up your mind and do it—THAT’s it!

 What do you love most about living in Tennessee?

 It’s the most creative place for a writer on Earth. My days are filled with writing strips, writing song lyrics, working on movie and television ideas. Nashville is an incredibly wonderful electric ocean of creativity. Also, the natural beauty of this state is never ending. It’s really gorgeous. Our dogs love the lake and the woods…and you can go from downtown Nashville and in 20 minutes, you can be fishing. There is not another major entertainment capitol that can come close to saying that. Plus, I would have never met my wife-to-be, so even that was plenty.

Who do you consider to be some of the best living comic strip illustrators?

 When you talk about illustrators, that’s one thing. But there’s also the writer cartoonists who may not necessarily be the greatest illustrator but they put their ideas together terrifically…so I think you have to break this up into two sections. For instance, best living cartoonists…I would have to put Scott Adams (Dilbert) in there, for sure. Scott’s drawings are very simple and his writing is PERFECT…and it comes together beautifully—HE’S AWESOME. I also really like Brian Bassett (he does a strip called Red & Rover). I also like both of the McCoy brothers (Glen and Gary)…they have a comic that they split up (they have a panel that they call The Flying McCoys). They are really funny.  And Mark Tatulli (Lio and Heart of the City)…

As far as best living illustrators…the greatest is Jack Davis and Mort Drucker of Mad Magazine. Also, I think that the Mick Mastroianni, who is drawing his grandfather’s comic strip, B.C. He draws a GREAT job of drawing just like his grandfather.

I’m also a big fan of Joe Staton. A couple of years ago, Joe, took over Dick Tracy and he’s just done an incredible job of bringing everything back.

LoI,I hate you guys for asking this question because now Mort, John, Tom and all the rest of my friends who I think are awesome will hate me, because space is limited to name my other favorites. You guys stink.

Are there any little-known things about you that your readers might be surprised to learn?

 I think most people know that I write and record songs, but if they didn’t…there….now you are surprised.

I grew up without a real father figure in my life, so I always looked for other role models. Creatively, I looked at Walt Disney as an example of how to live my life. I looked at Roy Rogers to show me the right thing to do. All these years later, I realized that this little kid was absolutely right.

Finally, I try to make my house and my studio as much like Mayberry as ridiculously possible. We let no negative energy in…there is only room for the niceness and good old-fashioned fun that I make sure I get a dose of pretty much every night—at 10 o’clock, everything stops for The Andy Griffith Show.

What do you love most about creating the strips?

 Honestly, what I love most about the strips is being DONE. It’s always a nice 5 minute vacation before the next batch is due and I get to read your responses and go to Mayberry in my mind for a few minutes before I start writing the next batch.

What is the most challenging thing you face when coming up with a new strip?

 The greatest challenge of doing a strip is all of it—it’s daily…you have NO days off. So regardless of what you have going on in your life, you must get the strips done. That’s also the biggest blessing though, because even if you’re having problems or whatever is happening in your life, as far as me, I have to put all that away for a while and concentrate on doing something that hopefully will make someone smile. I think that the Lord put me in this position to help me get through my own tough times by drawing and writing through it, through the comic strip.

What projects are you working on?

 We have quite a few museum exhibits that are in the planning stages for NANCY. We are working with the city of Nashville on a “Keep Nashville Beautiful” campaign through the schools. I have a neat, new project called Bearly Angels with Bradford exchange and I’m writing songs and working on the story arc and movie treatment for a project for Dreamworks.

How do you hope to be remembered when your time comes?

 I’ve always said that on my gravestone, it should say “I’m sorry, but I think the dailies will be a little late this week.” I guess I’d like to be thought of (if I am ever thought of at all) as somebody that did what they could with what God gave me to make you smile a little bit.

Anything you’d like to say in closing?

 I always enjoy going out and doing speaking engagements because in this world of digital media and digital art, folks maybe don’t even realize that they have all the power that they could ever need just in their brain and with a paper and a pencil. I like to just draw and talk in a really low tech way because we can never forget that our most powerful strength is in or thoughts and that our thoughts become things and these things, then, change the world. As a matter of fact, really, thoughts turn into action are the only things that have EVER changed the world.