Category Archives: Social Media

Blocking on Instagram

I have nothing against nudity.  In fact I’m a fan of it.  If you want to make a page where you’re nude, go for it.  But I don’t want you to ask me to follow you on Instagram.  It seems everyday I get a handful of requests from sites that are just porn sites.  And again, I have nothing against porn sites, if they want to exist more power to them. But please, please stop making me block you on instagram.    I don’t have enough time to keep doing it.  There’s just not enough hours in the day.

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Father’s Day

My Dad died about nine years ago.  There’s not a day that goes by that I can’t honestly say I don’t think of him.  I never knew I would miss him this much.  A few years ago I wrote this post on Facebook and re-posted it again this year.  I think this sums up anything new I could write so I’m going to post it here also.  To those whose Fathers are still alive, call them and wish them a happy Father’s Day.  I know I wish I could.

I first posted this a few years ago and it came up on my memories recently, but with Father’s Day tomorrow I wanted to re post it one more time. I don’t know if I can find anything different to write about my Dad that I don’t include here.


It’s not like I think of him more on this day than any other. I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t have at least one thought of my Dad, who passed away from cancer six years ago. Something will happen during each day will make me think of him. I can be shopping at the book store and I’ll see a book and my mind thinks how that would be a perfect Father’s Day or Christmas present for him, but of course I don’t have to buy it. Or when I bought my Ipad when it first came out I imagined him saying something about my need to buy the newest gadgets as soon as it came out.

You hear people say that their Mom or Dad is their best friend. My Dad was never my best friend. He was my Dad. I didn’t want him to be my best friend. I needed him to be my Dad. Even after I had supposedly grown up I wanted him as a Dad, not a best friend. I wanted to be able to call him up with a problem and get his advice. I knew if things got bad I always had a place to go back to. I have plenty of friends, but I only had one Dad.

My Dad was, shall we say, vertically challenged. He was probably 5’ 4”, shorter than my Mom. Of course that was always open to comment. He liked to say that dynamite came in small packages, I would tell him so does silly putty. But when I think of him I always imagine myself looking up at him, no matter how tall I grew over him.

He continued to surprise me throughout his life. A lifelong Republican, and worse a Nixionian, while I grew up he came to admire Bill Clinton. A veteran of over twenty years, he would get so mad about the war in Iraq and the men and women sent over there he would literally work himself into tears.

I got my love of reading from my Dad. He always had a book and was reading some part of the day. After my parents retired, he would go shopping with my Mom and while she was in the stores shopping he would find a bench to sit and read. I remember more than a few times walking through the mall to find him sitting on a bench with a book while my Mom was inside the store shopping. I can say that I am a feminist because of my Dad. Chores or duties in our home weren’t assigned because one was the Mom or one the Dad. My Dad handled the cooking the last twenty years of his life so much that after he died my Mom said she had to learn how to cook all over again.

One of the things my Dad regretted the most in his life I think was that he didn’t graduate high school. He left an abusive family situation and joined the Navy before he received his diploma. He may not have finished school, but my Dad was one of the smartest people I have ever known. He taught himself so much over the years, that there were few subjects he didn’t have some knowledge of. As much as I’ve tried to emulate him, there are some subjects that just baffle me and when something in car goes wrong I miss the chance to call him and explain the problem and have him tell me what the solution is.

And what I remember most about my Dad was how much he loved my Mom. Oh, I’m not saying there weren’t bad moments. They could fight. Oh boy, could they fight. But in the end it didn’t matter. They loved each other so much. When my Dad was in the hospital dying I overheard my Mom talking to the priest and she said “He’s my right arm, no, he’s both my arms, he’s my whole body.”

My Dad was one of those people that never realized what an impact he had on others. If he had seen the people that stopped by his hospital room when he was dying, from family that came everyday and worked shifts so he wouldn’t be alone at night, to nurses who had dealt with him only weeks or months before wanting to stop by and say their goodbyes he would have been astonished.

I’ll never forget one incident while we sat in the hospital room. There must have been about twenty people in the room, from my Mom, my brother and sister, my niece and nephew, uncles and aunts, cousins. It was a full room. Everyone was sitting around talking in different groups while he laid on his hospital bed. My niece got up and walked over the his bed and sat down next to him. Conversations were lowering, people were turning, as she took his hand in hers and sat there, talking to him and holding his hand. The room had went completely quiet as everyone watched.

My Dad adored my niece and nephew. I’m not saying he didn’t love his own children, but he held a special place for the two of them in his heart and thought the sun rose and set on them.

I could spend pages and pages talking about my Dad and what he meant and still means to me. Even though I don’t send him a card anymore I wanted to write something about him for Father’s Day. They say that loss gets better over time and while it might be true that the hurt isn’t quite as fierce there isn’t a day that goes by I wish he wasn’t still here.

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While I have two current websites and more on the way that show new comics I am working on, my Tumblr page has a lot of old comics I’ve done that you can read.   The site is The Old Dog and it has all sorts of things on it.  I post new pages from Ayla and anything new I’m working on there, but I also am in the midst of scanning and posting most of my old work for everyone to read.  Plus columns and all sorts of other things.  Check it out.

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Back in the day I used to have a blog called altjiranga mitjina.   I guess you could say that I still have the blog, it’s still there, I just never update it anymore.   That was when blogging was the cool thing to do.  Now with Facebook not as many people blog anymore.  I would update this blog almost everyday.  I was very faithful in making sure I posted on a regular basis to this blog.  There was no main theme.  I wrote about everything.  Anything that caught my interest was fair game.

That’s what I want this site to be.  I guess you could say I’m updating that blog to this site.

Hopefully I’ll be able to keep it updated as often.

blog header

One thing for sure, this site is a lot easier to pronounce.


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I’ve been sick.

I’ve been too busy.  My job has been too busy lately.  (My regular job is manager of a big box retailer so there is always something going on to keep me busy.)

I’ve had personnel issues.  Coming out of a two year relationship.

I’m just tired.

I want to watch something on TV.

My dog ate my homework.

Eh, ok, maybe not the last one.

All excuses.  And you know what.  I can always find an excuse.  There’s always going to be something that wants to stand between me and writing.  It’s been like that since I first sat down many years ago and tried to put pen to paper.  It’s going to be like that tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.

It’s called life.

Unless you’re going to lock yourself up in a room and never come out there are always going to be things that interrupt your writing.  Or to keep this on point and personnel, my writing.  I used to be a lot better about not letting such distractions hinder my writing.  I somehow would find the time to find the time to write.

Well, we all know what they say about excuse.  Everyone has one.  No longer.  I’m not going to say that there aren’t still going to be problems sometimes in finding the time to write.  What I’m saying is that somehow, someway I am going to find the time to write.  This site was supposed to be where I talked about pretty much any and everything.  My new writing, what music I’m listening to, what happened that day….this is where I was going to try to keep you updated on whatever.   And I’ve done a terrible job.

Hopefully from here on out it’ll get better.

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How much Social Media is too much?


Another blog?  I can hear the clicking of escape now.  How many blogs, pages, sites, etc does one person need to have?

That’s a good question and unfortunately, one I’m not prepared or equipped to answer.   If I had to guess I could say you can always have one more, since that seems to be my method.  Whenever I think I’ve hit the ceiling of how many I need I seem to find a way to add at least one more site to the list of ever growing media that I keep chugging out.

Still in today’s world it’s hard to get your word, music, art or whatever creative endeavor you’re trying to get out in front of people.  It’s a proven fact that today’s generation, and more than likely the previous generation too, have a shorter attention span.   We can talk about a million and one reasons whey this is so, but it’s kind of like the snake eating its own tail.  The media flashes by our eyes so quick now that it’s hard to stop and focus on anything for any length of time.  Blink and you’ll miss it.  It being just about anything nowdays, from something important to that new link to a comic story or that artist with a great new song.

So what’s the answer?

Put yourself out there in as many different ways as possible.  If someone reads Facebook you want to be there so they can find you.  If they only scroll through Tumblr you don’t want to miss out someone finding you there.  I could go on and on here, but I think we all get the point.   You want to put yourself out there as much as possible, in hopes that if someone sees any of these sites, posts, etc. it will lead back to what you want them to see.

I’m adding this site as sort of a hub to everything I do.   I’ll post links to all my upcoming webcomics and when I update them.  I’ll post to any other writings I’m doing and link to them.  I’m also going to use this site to just write about whatever I feel like.  It might be comics, it might be writing, it might be music, it might be anything that I find worth talking about.

Right now the sites I have are my Facebook site here.   My Facebook writing site here.  My twitter feed here.  My Tumblr page here.  My shop here. My music site (which is seriously in need of updating) here.  And I’m not going to even list the old blogger blog I used to write in just about daily, but probably haven’t updated it in years.    So that’s quite a few sites right there.  I’ve actually pared down somewhat.  I had another comic site and a site that I was using to look for artists.  I also used to have a Facebook page for every comic I was working on, or was planning on working on, which was quickly growing.  One thing that helped me realize is that I don’t need to be creating sites for comics that haven’t come out yet.  Too often these things don’t work out and some of them might never come out.  Also it takes a lot of updating with that many sites.  When the comic series I’m working on at the moment come out (and I’m feeling pretty confident about a few of them) they will have their own website and I’ll be making posts there on days I’m not putting up pages, but when you add a Facebook page for the same site and want to contribute new material there.  Well, it all just becomes too much.  You can spend so much time updating your sites to publicize your work that you don’t have time to create the work itself.  So pages like this and the overall writing Facebook page are where I’ll try to steer readers to updated sites and talk about whatever is on my mind.

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