The New Disruptors Is Back!

I somehow managed to fail to post here that the first episode in the new series of The New Disruptors podcast came out! Last month! I am very good at self-promotion!

Listen to my interview with comics publishing impresario C. Spike Trotman (or use the SoundCloud link below). You can subscribe to the podcast via this link or find it in all podcast directories.

That was episode #100 (I jumped up a few to reset). Episode #101 is coming soon plus a mini-episode. I’ll be creating 12 new full episodes between August 2018 and July 2019, but I also plan some shorter ones in which I ask a creator about their latest project.

You can help support the creation of more episodes and keeping the show running past July 2019 by becoming a monthly or one-time sponsor. Benefits include a private discussion forum, nifty enamel pins, and thanks on the air!

The New Disruptors Bonus Episode with Lucy Bellwood

My dear friend Lucy Bellwood passed through town last weekend, and stayed with my family as the start of her book tour for 100 Demon Dialogues, a set of cartoons in which she engages with her inner critic, who appears in the form of a smack-talking demon. She’s a talented illustrator and writer, and the book is full of tension and embrace: she doesn’t cast her demon out, but helps him understand her better. You can order a copy of the book via her site or ask your local bookstore to carry it. (You can also order a plush version of the demon, as I did.)

She asked me to have a conversation about creativity and our latest projects in front of a live audience at Brick & Mortar Books in Redmond. (Which, by the way, I highly recommend: the store opened last year, has great selections, and a terrific proprietor and staff.) I recorded our non-demonic dialogue, and produced a special episode of The New Disruptors podcast, which I retired in 2014. (You can subscribe via a podcast app to the feed.)

I started a crowdfunding campaign to bring back The New Disruptors for a new season of at least 12 episodes, and I’m halfway through the fundraising period—and over 55% of the way to the goal. If you’d like to hear more new episodes, please back the campaign. At $25 and above, you get insider rewards; at $100, your name will be read on the air and you’ll get an exclusive enamel pin!

Th-Th-Th-That's a Mystery Solved, Folks!

 In the style of the podcast 99% Invisible's narrative.

I was in Taos. It was 2001. We were in an adobe-style house. It had been restored to within an inch of its life. The floors were sand-set stones. The walls, stucco. The roof line had the ends of what seemed to be logs sticking out. I don't know if there were logs supporting the roof. That's the style. That's what it looks like, but the inside could have been fake. There's no way to tell.

The house had uncomfortable seating and not enough. We rented it from an acquaintance. With just five of us, we couldn't all sit down at the same time in any room or even in adjacent rooms. At night, in the room my wife and I shared, a fax machine's tones bled through the wall. The acquaintance hadn't told us she'd rented an owner's apartment to some kind of tchotchke dealers. They slammed their dresser drawers til 3 a.m. and kept us awake.

We skied during the days. We suffered from altitude sickness a little. And we watched cartoons. This was before we had kids. We watched Looney Tunes. At one point Yosemite Sam pursues Bugs Bunny through some kind of old Western town. 

And we're watching. And we realize. Wait a minute. Those backgrounds. The house they run in and out of. They're in Taos. This is the landscape around us. This is practically the house we're in.

Why is this happening in Looney Tunes?  

And we talk and we think — maybe the animators would drive out to get peyote in New Mexico from Hollywood, and they remembered the mesas and the adobe buildings and brought those back.  We have theories. We don't have answers.

But that's not the story. I thought about this for years. That's not the story at all. Now I know the story.

The story is about Maurice Noble. We know Charles M. "Chuck" Jones's name because they were large in the credits. We didn't know very much about Noble, who created the backgrounds. Until 99% Invisible, a podcast by Roman Mars, aired a story by Eric Molinsky about Noble. Noble was a transformative artist and one who obsessively researched the subjects he abstracted and caricatured for his work.

But that's not how I learned the answer. Two-thirds of the way into the story it comes out. Noble grew up in New Mexico. I had my answer. The background we saw was Noble painting his childhood. Thank you, Eric and Roman.

Listen to the episode embedded above. And subscribe to the extraordinary show 99% Invisible, which tells us the answers to questions we'd forgotten we asked. Perhaps Roman will turn your dreams into an episode, too.

Bear Playing a Sousaphone

Talking with a friend in the UK on Twitter, my memory was jogged about my dad's granola company, Wildtime Foods. He and a friend at a newspaper the to worked at found themselves at loose ends, and formed the business. Their first product was a baked bar with a gingerbread-ish taste, something like a brownie but not as sweet. It was called, wait for it, a Grizzly Bar. (Gingerbread, Wildtime Foods, see.) 

They commissioned local artist Paul Ollswang to create a set of illustrated cards that were randomly inserted in packages. Collect them all and win a prize! This was 1981. I dug around and found the cards on a site memorializing and distributing Paul's work.

Wildtime Foods trading card, 1981, by Paul Ollswang

Paul died young at 51, sadly! Lovely, weird man who looked exactly like his illustrations. R. Crumb liked his stuff.

Dad sold his interest to his partner many years ago, and his partner later sold out, too. The current company keeps on making great granola. In fact, its process looks nearly identical! A lot of handwork and turning. The logo is only slightly changed from the one created over 30 years ago.