Well, last time I had a gig here in Gainesville I wrote a post mortem, and it was rather negative. That time it was a solo gig, this time I shared the evening with Kathleen Taylor (lovely, sweet, nimble-fingered and generous) and Cracker the Box (intense, groovy, bluesy, first-rate and dark), but I will let them assess their own performances. As for mine, well, I am still struggling with my voice… I don’t yet seem to have found it. Due to a number of–uhm…er…uh… changes–my voice has become a source of major complication and profound insecurity.

But, apart from that, it may have, surprisingly, been the most at ease and competent I have ever felt on stage anywhere at any time. Why? I don’t know. The crowd was surprisingly large and the room pleasantly packed. The other acts were known in town and beloved, my soundcheck was a nightmare of insecurities and sad shrill mumblings… but somehow, by Saraswati’s grace, once I sat down and looked out at everyone, I just felt “ON.” I decided on-the-spot to forget about my insecurities about my voice and just give ‘em the best I was able to do at the time, and to lean into THAT; lean into all I had. I decided not to question myself or freak out, just to freaking sing! So sing I did.

And far more amazing, something else happened that was quite a shock, all the little bluesy bass notes I popped with my thumb, all the little variations and riffs were there, RIGHT THERE where I needed them to be. I had NO fumbling or loss of dexterity. Dear God, for the first time ever on stage… my fingers actually worked. For me the highlights of the evening were the electric numbers: McCartney’s “Letting Go,” and my original “Chokin’ ’99.” I felt good, felt on, felt as though people were in for a surprise as I was the unknown, the opening act, “she who had to prover herself.” As for the audience, they were very responsive, attentive, and appreciative… very appreciative.

And apart from half a can of PBR I was sober.

It was a good night.

Nowadays I don’t drink like that. And I don’t really feel as nervous, I get nervous, a little sloppy, but I still play better in public than I used to. And nowadays I have Saraswati to guide me, and I realize, thanks to my spiritual life, that being an artist, musician and teacher is my duty (in the largest sense) and so being nervous and failing to do my duty is something of a sin.

So, here it is, gig night, and I am ready to do my duty.

Beautiful place, beautiful people. We held our graduation party out here yesterday, and it was lovely and made even more lovely by the fact that it was not an end. I’m here for good, Tom and Leela of course live here, Anna lives here, and now Eric and Sally are here to stay in Gainesville, too. Soon, thanks to SAW, Gainesville will be the city comic book artists from all over will call home, where they will settle down and be happy. I’m proud of my students and have given them endless credit for their growth and dedication, but last night, for the first time, I realized that we teachers had a big hand in that, too. Their growth belongs to all of us, we did this together, and does it ever feel good to be in the business of changing lives. What a day, sun, amazing food, and perhaps the most relaxed and tension-free gathering I’ve ever been to. There was magic at SAW this year, an auspicious gathering of talents and warm-heartedness that rarely comes along. Funny, but usually the day after an event like that I feel drained and sort of saddened that it’s over, but today I’m all smiles and joy. You know something was good when you still feel good the day after the BIG DAY.

Here are a couple other pics from our day, one of Lake Newnan (which is what I’m staring off at in the pic above), and the alligator that lives in our pond.

“…don’t know much about “art,’ even though I’ve been drawing and writing for over 60 years. I always held the belief that “art” cannot be taught. But, looking over the SAW website, methinks that yours is the correct approach. Witness Justine, the very embodiment of the artist’s profile. I’ve known her for many years, and have been a fan from the very beginning. She is extremely gifted, and will be on hand to help your students open the doors of perception.

Give her a hug for me.”

F.Thorne

Once again, Frank descends from the heavens (or some other slightly less well-lit and sulfuric place) to heap praise and glories upon little old me! Thank you Frank, and I love you!

“I’ve recorded all of Justine’s lectures in my heart.”

Beautiful, thanks! What more could any teacher ask for?

Again, cartoonists exaggerate, that’s what they do, in fact, it’s about all they have. Take away a cartoonist’s right to exaggerate and they’ve nothing left but soft doughy drawings of soft doughy white guys (never women, as those cartoons are now “sexist”). If an art form (cartooning) is the art of exaggeration, then by today’s standards, cartooning is dead. Certainly cartoonists (humorists) have in the past poked fun at racial, cultural, and gender stereotypes… but does that make them racist or mean-spirited? No, many people I know from all walks of life, genders, and races certainly act in stereotypical ways, and we seem to have reached a point of over-sensitivity in which playing with these stereotypes is no longer allowed. Of course I also recognize from painful personal experience that cartoons, songs, and routines of that nature can hurt, so there is a paradox and conflict even in myself about all this. But let’s just stick with my point rather than delving into the inner conflict any sensitive or intelligent person must recognize when talking about this stuff. One of the best points I can make in regard to my original argument has to do with Speedy Gonzalez, from Warner Brothers cartoon fame. At some point people (probably over-sensitive white folks) decided that Speedy Gonzalez cartoons were racist, so they were essentially pulled or banned. Here’s the catch, no one thought to ask the Mexicans. They LOVED Speedy and wondered why their favorite character was no longer on TV. Similarly when I watch Rochester on the Jack Benny show I understand why some people might find it offensive, but I think that shows a certain knee-jerkiness and ignorance. Look closer: Jack worked with a “black” actor for years, loyally, and though Rochester was in the servile role officially, he gave Rochester the best lines, always had him come out on top (even on top of the star… Jack Benny himself), and was portrayed as not only intelligent, but popular and extremely quick-witted. To me, the issue is not so clear as many might believe, and if anything shows that Jack Benny was a very forward thinking man, especially for the time. Indeed, even the “offensive” Amos and Andy, if you watch it, portrays those characters in what to my eyes is a far less degrading way than Def Comedy Jam. I simply think these issues are more complicated than they seem.

Similarly with Jonathan Winters. Though my students were hip enough to laugh, to get it, I heard the words “creepy” and heard him described as “vaguely racist.” And while I admire the sensitivity, it comes from a point of view that is distinctly modern. Keep in mind, like any cartoonist, Jonathan Winters exaggerated, and he did so inclusively in an egalitarian way. All of his characters, be they black, white, women, Chinese, children, or Ohio hicks, were treated with the same amount (or lack of) dignity. There was no cynicism, no hate, not even any ignorance. He painted them all with the same beautifully broad brushstrokes as would have any cartoonist or comedian. He played with stereotypes and broadly humorous affectations. No one was singled out as being more or less human. In his eyes, anyone was potential material for comedy… not just any race, but any species–he did great dogs and cats, too. Sad to think that were he still out there working he would ONLY be allowed to perform as white male characters, no women, no blacks, no Chinese, nothing. Nowadays he would have to censor himself to the point of being stale and stagnant, stiff and inoffensive. Boring.

Let’s keep in mind, also, that when Jonathan Winters appeared on the Rosey Grier show his portrayal of a black man on that show was brave, bold, and politically significant not only to both men, but to the country. This was black and white meeting, laughing together on national television that went into the homes of people of all races. This was not racist, this was a victory of the melting pot and a much needed release of pressure during racially tense times. This was not primitive or racist, this was groundbreaking. And as you watch it you can see Mr. Grier laughing as he recognized Mr. Winters playing up stereotypical behaviors and attitudes he was no doubt familiar with the very same way I laugh out loud when he plays up stereotypical behaviors and attitudes of the Ohio hicks and hillbillies I knew, loved, and grew up with. Are we to believe now that Jonathan Winters should have ONLY played up the silliness and stereotypes present in white America? How boring, how deeply racist, and what a shame to rob him of such a wealth of material.

Besides all this there is a personality trait, or aesthetic, that many of us have (and I am assuming that Jonathan Winters was “one of us”) in that many of us love characters. We love people with character, people who are characters, characters, and people with great characteristic features. This is lost in the modern aesthetic. Character actors are all but gone, eccentricity is no longer celebrated in the same way. Watching older films we (those of us who are part of The Cult Of Character) enjoy that there are so many great faces with so many distinctive traits, not like in modern films where a certain even tone seems to dominate the appearance of most actors. We love people who are different, eccentric, and want to celebrate, imitate, and enjoy such natural individuality. We miss Paul Lynde, Fred Gwynne, Ernie Anderson, Minnie Pearl, and other people/actors whose schtick involved characters with distinctive and excessive personality traits. Guys like Jonathan Winters celebrated that world of human experience. And he didn’t just celebrate famous characters, but the characters that populated his daily life, and he did so with joyous affection.

I say there was nothing racist about his routines, nothing even remotely offensive, or creepy, no, with Jonathan there was nothing but good-hearted pure egalitarian joy! And as for me, I’d love to see a lot more of that on TV nowadays.

“Green Emerald Curry Spam.” Spam jokes are cheap, but I was trying to come up with the types of Spams that were in the Spam gift sets we were given for Christmas by the school I worked for in South Korea, and I thought this combination was funny in its absurdity even if Spam jokes are passe. I told this story at the Conch the other night about the Spam gift set (and no matter how weird it is, always assume that if I’m telling a story about South Korea that I did NOT make it up). And other Spams were going to be: Spam infused olive oil, after dinner Spams, and perhaps Buffalo Spam or jerk Spam.

Another beat I regrettably missed at the Conch, actually the freaking punchline to the story of how much I hated Korean food was that while I was living in Korea I was actually called into the office and bitched out for not eating Korean food at lunch with everyone else. I told them they’d hired me to teach, not to eat Korean food.

“Is there a VitaminC.com for when you catch a virtual flu from someone on social media?” The last line in a recent Facebook exchange… I had more material here, but chose to stop before people got tired of it.