Spring Fling

It's Spring! and time for cartoonist extraordinaire Jules Feiffer, and A Dance to Spring. 

Jules Feiffer's "Sunday Morning"
(another version)

I'm getting ready to go to New York, a trip I've taken in spring for the past three years. The realization that I'm leaving soon has manifested itself in weird dreams and mental confabulations. I feel turned upside down, rushing forward, towards what, I'm not sure. Which brings to mind this drawing by James Thurber, of a crowd stampeding through the streets of Columbus, Ohio, during the imaginary flood of 1913:

 From Thurber's, My Life and Times, "The Day the Dam Broke."

I have a special fondness for Thurber, and bring him out whenever I need a good chuckle. In a shameless copy of his style, I drew this picture many years ago, of children running in all directions, holding flashlights, looking for a wild dog named Fatima:

I bring this up because, lately, I've been thinking about the act of drawing and how a drawing can disappear into the dustbin of history, only to be found in a box hidden in the back of a closet, high on a shelf, or on an obscure website, like this one by Zuni Maud, a Yiddish illustrator, cartoonist and puppeteer. (To see his amazing puppetry and more drawings, click here.)

What possibly could the name of this drawing be? "Jews gathering moss uphill?" "Sisyphusberg?" In his subtle comic style, Maud illustrates hopeless labor, like the Sisyphus myth, something artists, cartoonists and bloggers know well. But the mere fact that one can find humor in the act of hopelessness, is in itself, not hopeless, and a trait I much admire, which brings me back to Thurber, which makes me think of Feiffer...which reminds me that it's Spring!

See you in NY!

Junk Mail

I've gotten so much junk mail lately, and so little real email—where is everybody? tweeting, texting, fbing, email is becoming downright old-fashioned!— that I've taken to reading my junk mail. It's a mishmash of defrauders and entertainers, entreaties and exaggerations, and promises to be made, really a very rich palette if you have half the day to waste. 

Well, you know how one thing leads to another, and after hearing author Norton Juster on the radio talking about his book, The Phantom Tollbooth, with sentences that read like this: "Whether or not you find your own way, you're bound to find some way. If you happen to find my way, please return it, as it was lost years ago." which made me look at the book again with Jules Feiffer's illustrations—anything by Feiffer always makes me feel silly, as evidenced here.  So, figuring by Norton's example, the way to find yourself is by getting lost sometimes (in wordplay); therefore and thus, I present my reimagined deleted junk mail here, with apologies forthwith:

Solar penises— grow bigger!

Natalie Portman awards Liz Butler the TownHog!

Claim your Borders

Boot Camp for Children
Help them find the straight and narrow
(not making this up)

[READ THIS]

Dear Beneficiary,

Did you get my last email! 

Your official payment of 5.5 millions is

approved by World Group Bank

If you have any info about

any one that scam you

forward it to us,

British High Commission (head office)

Fresno, CA

Yours, Faithfully,

Larry Wayne Ellis

[arrested 6/10, jailed Pinellas Cty. FL]

Fix your hips 
Replace your claim
Hip replacement fixed claim from Canada
Fly Air Canada!

Vitalize and hydrolyze. Wow! What a difference!

Nevada State Dems work from home!

Congratulations, You've just won a prize Ugg!

(Alert! Send real email to stop this flagrant bastardization of junk mail! Do not delete! Final notification! Submit your application today!)

A Dance to Spring...with apologies

I wanted to get a dancer for this post but it wasn't possible, given the time constraints and the money they wanted. So I had to go with what I had. My sincere apologies to Jules Feiffer for tampering with his vision, and to all the poets who have come before me at this time of year.  I'll try using a real dancer next time. 

                  

A Dance to Spring

 In this dance 

flowers bloom

giant locusts bloom

Hope blooms
 

All things are possible!

In this dance

Tea Party members bloom
gathering their spit

taking aim at John Lewis and calling him the "n" word

A time warp to be sure,

but our man has known enough hate to last a lifetime

Just look at him here at the Edmund Pettus Bridge

 Did he back down then?

Sorry folks you don't win.

Your ruse won't dampen his resolve one iota

To pass the Health Care Bill

All things are possible!

In this dance

Tea Partiers call Barney Frank a faggot
They can't say gay, as in, Oh Happy Day!
No, these people aren't happy in any way.
They're angry angry angry, a million times angry
about the Health Care Bill

The response from GOP leaders is weak
These events are isolated, Boehner says,
followed by Chairman Steele,
They're just stupid, is all he'll admit.
Perhaps they think
name calling is an allergic reaction to spring 
and all we need is an Allegra


Well, all things are possible!

In this dance
Angry people can't get over the fact
That their President is black!
They're still in shock, wondering,
What the hell was the country thinking?
Citizens must have been hypnotized
by the Jews and the Clintons,
so they're back on the streets 
eager to be heard
to stop the Socialist takeover of America!
Has anything changed?
Are we back where we started?
Is Lewis right, a time warp?
No, calm down, we're not back there yet,
Even the die-hards have changed in 60 years
Last night the bill passed

Hallelujah! 

And tomorrow... 
We put our kids—under 27—back into our health plans.


All things are possible!

~~~~

Here's the original cartoon by Feiffer, drawn in 1957, seemingly inspired by the same concerns we have today. I tried to reconfigure the eight poses of the dancers onto this tiny mannequin, although some worked better than others. So, thank you, Mr. Feiffer, and you're right—spring does make me silly.