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Begging Off Again…

I am having trouble drawing due to arthritis and other illnesses all mixed together like witches’ poison. So, today I apologize with old drawings and a promise to do better next Saturday.

Let me also show you Firefang, a D&D character who may soon make her way into a novel, The Forever Boy. She’s supposedly a dragon traveling in human form. I don’t know if we can believe her, but I don’t plan to make her mad anytime soon. The dragon in the picture is what she says she looks like au naturel. Let’s not try to argue with her about that. Fiery temper, don’t you know.

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Milt Caniff

Here are some old thoughts that I still think about one of my all-time cartoonist heroes.

Catch a Falling Star

20160319_150610 My 1967 Captain Action Steve Canyon action figure.

I have always been a deeply devoted fan of the Sunday funnies.  And one of the reasons I read the comics religiously was the work of Milt Caniff.  His comic strips, Terry and the Pirates, Male Call, and Steve Canyon set a standard for the age of action comics and adventure strips.

I read his comics in the 1960’s and 1970’s and always it was Steve Canyon.  But this, of course, was not his first strip.  I would discover in my college years the wonders of Terry and the Pirates.  When Caniff started the strip before World War II, he set it in China, but actually knew nothing about China.  So he did research.  He learned about people who became oriental hereditary pirate families and organizations.  He learned to draw authentic Chinese settings.  His comedy relief characters, Connie and the…

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April 18, 2019 · 3:33 pm

Today’s Excuse

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April 13, 2019 · 2:29 pm

Rooster Riding

I needed something to reblog while I struggle with pink-eye. I chose this because of the picture, not the semi-incoherent Paffooney wisdom.

Catch a Falling Star



Do I believe in the little people?  Of course not.  If Tinkerbell depends on me, she is dead meat… or maybe dead fairy dust.

But if they do exist, then they are like the rooster riders in my picture, exploiting the world in the same way the big old slow ones do.  

They are not our inferiors or our superiors.  They are us.  They mirror us and our beliefs, our dreams… our nightmares, and all the things deep within us that could ever possibly go bump in the night.

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Hollyhocks and Chickenwire

The world that I grew up in has disappeared into the past. I do not know what the future will bring. It used to be that spring was a time for flowers that reappear and fill Iowa with color again after a gray-and-white winter of cold and snow. And you could protect the little garden that exemplified your whole world with chickenwire, that Midwestern thing you see between the kids and the flowers in the Paffooney above keeping the beauty from being picked or trampled during games. As I write this, a massive cold front and potential blizzard threatens Iowa as a result of the changes industry has made to our climate. Will Iowa survive? The breadbasket of the world should be starting to plant the new summer’s crop. And floodwaters have spoiled enough of last years harvest to influence gas prices and raise food prices as there will be less ethanol and corn oil this fall.

And will I myself make it very much longer? I am ill today. I seem to have developed a pink-eye infection out of nowhere. I feel bad. And having just paid an exorbitant amount of money for Trump’s “beautiful tax cut”, I don’t have enough left for both a doctor’s visit along with antibiotics and food to last the rest of the month. Ah, the joys of being ill and bankrupt! Hopefully my body can still fight off infection by itself.

So, I end here today, feeling awful and still being a pessimist. We shall see if hope survives tomorrow. The fight is set before me for today.


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Hear the Music

Yes, I have been writing epically bad poetry for a long time… This is an example from 2013.

Catch a Falling Star



Hear the Music (a love poem)


The singer sings his song,

And wants the world to sing along,

Though the world has gone all wrong,

And the darkness stays too long.


The singer warms and croons,

Under bright romantic moons,

And carries hopeful tunes,

To the listening dolts and loons.


Can a song bring truth to light?

Can it help us win the fight?

Does it ease the world’s plight?

And set the wrongs aright?


Yes a song can save the world,

Though the truth must be unfurled,

And the listeners’ ears are twirled.

So the hurts will all be pearled.





Okay, okay… goofy poetry, I know.  That’s the way I am.  I have a goopy-sappy-goofy faith in the power of words.   I call the chapters of my fiction Cantos because I believe them to be musical compositions and pieces of…

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Hidden Kingdom… (Chapter 2 through page 19)

Today’s Hidden Kingdom update.

Catch a Falling Star

If you would like to see the complete Chapter One, you can find it at this link;

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