many of you may not know that i’ve rather recently become an avid gormand of american history. for some reason i can’t get enough of it…my dvr is chock full of history channel programs i have yet to watch and my bookshelves are literally overflowing onto the floor with books that i have read and are on my list to be read. mostly, i just like trivia. i’m not terribly concerned about exact names and dates…
i want to know the little stuff…
like for instance, i was tickled to read that andrew jackson, the 7th president of the US, was the first president to have an assassination attempt be made upon him. the dude that was going to shoot him had two pistols… he walked up to jackson only to have both pistols misfire. so, jackson, being the stone cold badass that he was, proceeded to beat the hell out of this guy with his cane… people had to come to pull the president off this guy! that’s the stuff i dig.
today, we rise from our beds to the dawn of a new era in american politics. the first african–american us president. damn. i honestly thought i would never see this moment. i just assumed that america was going to stick to what i knows… white males. thank goodness there was a change.
i’m a very cynical sort of guy. i always think the absolute worst, that way when the outcomes roll around i’m never completely disappointed. i’ve been swimming through the stories of this presidential campaign for two years…he’s up, she’s down… blah, blah, blah… i became so jaded witht he whole process that i stopped doing editorial cartoons… i had been doing them for almost ten years without a break. this election just burned me out. i couldn;t do it. didn;t help that i have a daily comic strip, a new house that always seems to need fixing and added graduate school on top of all that. i just was stretched too thin. i had to focus my energy on my strengths…and, frankly, my heart was just blackened by it all…nothing ever changed, no one ever learned from their mistakes…ever. what was one more cartoon that would be forgotten minutes after it was seen do to change that? not much.
as the campaign wore on, obama grew on me. i’m always a sucker for a well delivered speech. having the ability to speak effectively before a group of people is one of the most invaluable tools a person, not just a politician, can possess. the dude’s speeches moved me. he’s good. very good. and that’s what won me over. he made me, for the first time in my adult life, have faith is something.
now, i’m not getting all mushy on you. i’m also a devout realist. if history has taught me anything it’s that saying and doing are two different animals. you say what you need to say to get where you want to go. politics has, and will always be at its core, pure theatre. if when you get there you do some of the things you said… awesome. if you try and can’t because of immovable objects in your way… that’s fine too… it’s the machine. it’s theatre.
will obama, accomplish everything he says he wants to… maybe. will his ideas turn the country around? who knows. are we hurting enough right now to listen? sure. is he the right person, right now for this monumental task? possibly.
it’s all theatre. today begins the first act of the new production. we’ve all had a chance to choose the playbill and the main characters. take your seats and hope someone taller than you doesn’t sit in front of you.
now we just have to see if it’ll be a comedy or a tragedy.
he was a good kid that was taken way before he should have been… he will be missed.
thank you for all your prayers…i’m not one to necessarily believe in an afterlife, but if there is one, i’m sure jeremy is up there hanging out with will eisner and charles schulz having a huge peanut butter and chocolate latte…
i met jeremy in 2003. he came on as my intern through a high school program. i had heard that he was diagnosed with leukemia and had bravely faced it down. when he first came to me i must’ve drove him nuts with questions. what can i say, i was curious. i had family who battled cancer— but i was too young to understand the gravity of what cancer was.
so i just bombarded jeremy with questions: what did you feel when you first found out? what clued you in to thinking something might be wrong? what does the chemo feel like going in? where do they put it? how long does it take? he was such a good sport about it…probably had a whole set of talking points ready to lay on people like me.
he came to me because he wanted to be a cartoonist. that’s all he wanted to do. write them, draw them, read them…i saw so much of myself in him— which is why we hit it off immediately. he was so funny. i loved to hear him laugh. i loved to make him laugh.
i am an only child. jeremy was like the little brother i never had. he loved the fact that i was one of the few adults that would tell him the straight truth. if his drawing sucked, i would tell him it sucked. if it was decent i would say that. i wouldn’t lie to him… if i lied to him it would mean that i didn’t care… and he knew that. and he respected me for that.
i told jeremy that his experience battling leukemia needs to be seen by other people. he was in a unique position to show how lonely and painful battling something you can’t see is. at the end of his intership he had put together the beginning of his chemo experience in the form of a comic book. it was to be the first in an ongoing series. i remember how proud he was, on that last day we were together, to hand me that finished copy of his comic. i helped him do that. made me feel good.
i bought him a small light table for a high school graduation present. and i told him to use it. my mantra to him was “contrast, contrast, contrast!” i would always bust his chops about how his hatching sucked. he would bust my chops back about working so much.
he went off to a local community college. at the time i lived not that far away from him. he was so happy to get out into the dorms. i would occassionally talk to him online— which was rare because he was always out doing something— being a resident assistant in the dorm— he said he wanted to do it to meet people. and meet people he did. i remember visiting him on campus and i felt like i was with the star of the football team— everyone seemed to know him and love him. i have to admit, i was jealous… but after all he went through, he deserved it. and he loved it.
just when things were all falling back into place, when leukemia seemed as though it was going to be a few pages in a huge chapter… i got the call. the cancer was back.
but jeremy was tough. if he was scared, i never knew it. this kid was going to face it down again with both middle fingers up. he tasted life and wanted more. screw cancer. he kicked its ass once, he’d do it again. and he did. but the second one took something out of him.
he went forward to finish up his two year degree. he wanted to write and draw comics, design video games… nothing was going to stop him from doing that. but the cancer thing was lingering it was pushing against him time and time again. but no matter what he was going to get his degree.
when i was going through some heavy personal shit, i remember talking to jeremy. my life as i knew it was falling apart before my eyes… i was confused, scared didn’t think i had many options. i was willing to spend my life miserable because i was too frightened to do anything about it… because doing something meant that i had to sacrifice things… that it would be hard… jeremy could do that in his sleep. he would say that life was too short to be miserable… i’m not saying that his words solely convinced me to change my life… but they helped.
earlier this year jeremy got sick again. i kidnapped him one day and took him to the art supply store. we talked about going to see iron man, the hulk, the new batman movie. i just thought that he would kick this round like the other two. i remember specifically driving home on route 49 with jeremy sitting next to me thinking, ” this is one of the toughest m—–f—-rs i know…” he was still doing the college thing… driving to syracuse for treatment week after week…
when i got settled into my new house, he came over to visit. and he was busting my chops as usual…because i had the house, the white picket fence, the beautiful girl, the small yappy dog… everything i said i’d never be — i became… jerk 🙂
that would be the last time i would see him outside of a hospital.
he went to university hospital not too long after that. i went up to visit him a couple times. i regret now that i didn’t bring a camera with me… i have no pictures of me and him together. with jeremy though, i was being uncharicteristcally optimistic… i’d get my picture with him… when he beat it this time, i told him i was taking his ass to get a tattoo.. i think he deserved it.
his mom called me and wanted to know if i wanted to make an artwork donation for a families of cancer of benefit… instead of pickingout something that was already done i decided to do the portrait of jeremy that you see at the beginning of this post. i mean it was for jeremy. the piece was going to be auctioned off… i knew that… i planned on doing another one just for him. someone was able to buy back the piece from whoever bought it… when i went to see him at th hospital the second time, the painting was right by his bed. that really got me.
but syracuse couldn’t knock the cancer out of him. so off to buffalo…another hospital, another cancer center… nothing. i was making plans to go and see him in buffalo but he left there for another experimental treatment in new york city. so i was starting to make plans to go down there. i kept putting off calling him. my life has become chaotic in the past few months… i couldn;t make five minutes to call him and bust his chops? i would do it. i have to… it’s jeremy.
yesterday, i got home after work… the dogs had wrecked the house, there was pee on the carpets, in my studio, lucy pooped in the bathroom… and i went insane… then my phone rang.
jeremy was gone. the world stopped for a moment.
before he passed, he made sure to tell his mom that he wanted me to be the first to know.
my friend, my boy, my little brother… was gone. his fight was over.
you never know how it feels until it happens to you. this is a mixed feeling. i’m glad that he’s done with the pain, the struggle, that he doesn’t have to spend anymore time in another goddamn hospital. eat another crappy hospital meal. lay awake all night, alone… with nothing but some dvds and a sketchbook by his side.
and i’m angry….i want to have coffee with my friend again… but i can’t. i want to be able to watch him develop as an artist and writer but i can’t. he was 24 years old. 24 years old. everything he ever wanted to do in his life, i’m doing. i’m doing what he wanted to do… i am living his dream… without even knowing it i am.
after yesterday, there are a bunch of little things that really don’t have the weight to me like they used to.
it was an honor to know you jeremy. i’ll never forget you dude.
i’m sure thousands upon thousands of little boys like myself thought that all they needed to do to learn karate was wax some cars paint some fences and sand some floors…
so we painted, sanded and waxed… after a weekend of that we’d go to school sore from all that work.
and come home at the end of the day even more sore— chores can’t teach you how to fight… only in hollywood…
damn ralph macchio…
now we go into painting mode… three somewhat completed paintings in 7 days…
if you need me, you know where i’ll be…
(cue rocky theme)