This will be a daily series this week, as my wife and I finish up production on the 2010 Wondermark Calendar! But first:

A BRIEF NOTE ABOUT BOOKS

TopatoCo was showing some of my books as “out of stock” as recently as yesterday, but I’ve received word that their coffers have been replenished — so, you know, have at. I should also note that they now have the only remaining copies of my very first collection, The Annotated Wondermark — less than forty remain before the print run (the fifth printing, if you can believe it!) is totally sold out, and we won’t be reprinting them until next year sometime.

Or, if you’d like to combine a book order with a calendar order, I do have copies of the two Dark-Horse-published Wondermark books in my in-house store. Look, I know. It is all very confusing! But, so is life.

ADDITIONALLY

I am leaving town for the holidays on the evening of December 20! That means that NOON PACIFIC TIME on the 20th is the order deadline for pre-Christmas shipping for anything purchased from my in-house store (including calendars). TopatoCo will continue shipping probably until the crack of Christmas Day or until their fingers fall off, whichever happens last. (Though some shirt sizes are already gone, as are some card designs. You got to get on this stuff!)

Okay that’s done. Thank you for indulging me this brief digression!

NOW THEN

HOW TO MAKE A CALENDAR, Part 1: Design

The Wondermark Calendar, for those who’ve not seen it before, is a hand-made item that consists of fourteen cards resting in a brass easel. Besides two covers, there are twelve calendar cards, each featuring an image and a brief piece of verse. Here’s one from a few years ago:

Each card is screenprinted by hand using a GOCCO screenprinter (more on that later this week). We only print a small run of the calendars, and they’ve sold out each year. Each calendar is individually signed and numbered, and optionally includes the easel — or you can get just a “refill” if you’ve already got an easel from a previous year.

The last two years, I simply found images (in my collection of old books) that I thought might work well in the calendar, then used them pretty much unmodified, writing verses to fit. This year, however, I thought I’d do it a little different — I thought I’d make collages from separate images, similar to how I make the comic, to create unique scenes and make the whole thing a bit more interesting.

Now that I’ve done this a few times, I’ve realized that simpler images translate much better in screenprinting than do more elaborate engravings — so this year I kept my eyes open for smallish drawings with cleaner linework. Also, for the sake of consistency, I decided to pull the majority of the images from a single source: 1880s Punch magazine, which I have several giant bound volumes of (click for a closer look):

Those folks on the right-hand page look like good candidates, as do the figures on this page:

I ended up scanning around 60 different images and playing around with them in various configurations, combining and re-combining them in different ways, trying to see what scenarios and stories they suggested.

The way I work is different from many artists, and certainly many cartoonists. While I do often compose the comic’s images to match a previously-written script, I also have great fun at times simply building scenes like a puzzle, not knowing what’s going on until the very end of the process — and sometimes, in the case of the comics, occasionally not knowing what’s going on until I’ve actually written most of the dialogue! I like seeing where it goes and the directions that it takes by itself, and it’s almost more like sculpting with clay, adding pieces and taking them away, than drawing or painting.

Eventually I decided that these characters could work well together:

And with the addition of some objects from my go-to “prop warehouse”, the 1902 Sears-Roebuck catalog…

…An interesting and evocative scene began to develop:

And here are a few more scenes that I composed (you’ll recognize some of the other characters from those earlier scans as well):

I assembled each scene before knowing what would be going on in any of them. It makes the constructive process fun, because there’s no restrictions! Anything is fair game, and the goofier, the better.

Tomorrow: Part 2: Writing & Designing Each Month

So many good submissions for the blogger portion of the Thanksgiving Project! It was very tough to choose just ten, but thanks to specious criteria and pure caprice, here they are (in no particular order), along with my many thanks for all the kind words! Each blogger will receive an Artist Edition of Clever Tricks to Stave Off Death. LOOK FOR THEM SOON FOLKS

(Click through to read each post in its entirety)

1. Amelie Cherlin / Bajira!

What is this thing? I don’t even know! It is totally impressive though and I dig anyone who goes to any level of effort for something silly like this — to say nothing of the fact that Amelie has somehow seamlessly cracked my entire genetic code. Thanks, Amelie!

2. Jonathan Johns / Intercepted Messages

…From the penthouse suite at the top of the headquarters of TopatoCo, David oversees all daily operations of a team of thousands of highly trained operatives whose sole mission in life is to ensure that the ‘humors’ infecting David are expunged, and spread virally to all of us.

As it was told to me, David woke from a Slushee-induced sugar coma, trapped in the basement of the Los Angeles Central Library where he was surrounded by books depicting 19th century woodcuts and engravings. While in his stupor, the characters in the images began to speak to him, and challenge his manhood, calling him a pansy-artist and both taunting and provoking him.

I also like this bit:

He has had an impressive life up to this point

Man, that terrifies me for some reason.

Thanks, Jonathan!

3. Robin McKinley, Days in the Life*

***Yes. I have the t shirt. If I’d been thinking ahead I’d be wearing it so I could make my annoyingly alert and healthy husband take a photo. If it weren’t for the sleet and the howling gale and so on and the fact that even crouched over the electric fire chafing hellhounds all over my body I’m still cold. Maybe next year Malki can come out with wondermark Shetland pullovers.

Reading Robin’s blog is like reading a Mark Z. Danielewski novel. I respect anyone who can’t muster the conformist attitude to write in a straight line. Also she sent me a ton of traffic so that’s worth an extra 16 points. Thanks, Robin!

4. Cathy Hamaker / A Cautionary Tale

…I have a signed comic on my wall, and a copy of Beards of our Forefathers in my bathroom. (Yes, the bathroom. Shut up. Don’t judge me.)

The bathroom is the best place for books of comics. AUTOMATIC WIN

Thanks, Cathy! P.S. I get them from squid books

5. Bailey Shoemaker Richards / The Reading Corner

…One of my favorite things about Wondermark is that despite its overt weirdness, it’s still relevant. It’s still showing me, as a reader, something to laugh at and simultaneously making me realize that I’m laughing at myself (and the people around me). I am frequently laughing out loud in public places about the latest Wondermark strip, even when I’m not reading it. Then I definitely resemble the people at whom Malki ! pokes fun.

I will definitely take these kind words, though I also will fully own “overt weirdness.” Thanks, Bailey!

6. Shannon Saar / Wighthouse

…A righteous example of the past triumphing, overtaking, and yet melding with an ever-burgeoning future. An age-old tale that obliterates the tired shroud of the mundane. A graphic marvel carved from the monolith of time itself. A paragon of mirthfulness defined as much by what it doesn’t say as by what it must. A willful communiqué to a jaded, humdrum society. A cross-hatched fairy tale that huffs the æther of absurdity in great whoops and gasps. A sophisticated comment on raucous mores that cannot be ignored. A scrumptious brainchild of one peerless, punctuated individual.

I like that, reading the full post, I got the distinct feeling that Shannon took a long, deep breath, paused a moment, then rattled off that paragraph at full speed. That is the best way to rattle things off. Thanks, Shannon!

7. Lisa / two loose teeth

…It’s meticulously crafted with vintage engravings in Photoshop, too. I know that because I recently watched part of a Let’s Make a Wondermark live stream. It was somehow funny, voyeuristic, fascinating, and slightly boring, all rolled into one.

I will also own “slightly boring.” In addition, Lisa previously blogged about my 2007 video, Me Vs. Comic-Con: Who’s Better?, so I’m glad she’s stuck around for the rollicking years since. Thanks, Lisa!

8. Carapace / Cara Geeks

…And if you like snarking on said Victoriana, Malki’s your guy. There are also strips where people ride Piranhamoose, so good news all around, there. And if you like excessive verbosity and a highly affected writing style, well, he’ll keep you occupied while I’m dealing with students and craft fairs.

Man, I am learning all about myself today. Shall I own “excessive verbosity and a highly affected writing style”? I would hardly be the pauper’s pedant that I claim were I to refuse this steaming, dribbling chalice. Thanks, Carapace!

9. Johnny Despair, Esq. / Not For You Studios

…his aesthetic sense is poised to pounce upon the exposed jugular vein of the steampunk/anachro-fashion movement like a beautiful, misunderstood vampire eager to drink it dry and not even give a shit and not even be beautiful but a disfigured old monster with horrible claws and barely human anatomy because that is how my vampires roll and jesus FUCK can I stop seeing Twilight ads in my fucking convalescence pretty pretty fucking please I know bitching about Twilight is now about as cool as bitching about Fox News but honestly I am sick and I do not need this shit all up in my eyes

An aesthete, a wordsmith and a Tweet Me Harder fan to boot! YES PLEASE. I particularly like this bit:

True story about Tweet Me Harder: I once listened to it so harder, that I was unintentionally talking like a weird Kris Straub/David Malki ! slash-fic lovebaby for days. It took three hours of listening to the Sex Pistols to cure it.

You’re welcome. Thanks, Johnny!

10. Adalee Velasquez / Velasquez Artistry

Again, I have a soft spot for folks who make cool stuff like this, plus:

Always silly, sometimes juvenile (yes, he does some poop-jokes…), and occasionally brilliant

If I pass on owning “occasionally brilliant” I think I may never get another chance.

Thanks, Adalee, and thanks again to everyone who wrote!

Thanks so much to everyone who participated in the Thanksgiving Project! I was thrilled to receive submissions from bloggers and libraries around this spinning globe of ours. Without further ado, here are my selections for libraries; each institution below will be receiving a free copy of my latest comic collection, Clever Tricks to Stave Off Death!

Bellmore Memorial Library, Bellmore, NY

Justin wrote:

The Bellmore Library has a lot of Kid/Teen programs that everyone loves. It has Mrs. G, also known as the nicest woman of all time. Really, she helps run most if not all of the programs, bakes food for them, buys books and supplies from her own pocket for the library, and will help you with any problem you have. They have an entire wall, albeit a small wall because it’s a small library, packed to bursting with all kinds of comics, manga, Peanuts, Calvin and Hobbes, Bone, and maybe ten to fifteen “How to Draw Comics/Manga” books. They really do have a ton of things for anyone interested in the subject. They have a lot more then that, hell, my first D&D book was borrowed from them, but I would love if this really great library, run by a really nice woman, that really likes comics, could get a really nice book by a really great cartoonist.

Bloomfield-Eastern Greene County Public Library, Bloomfield, IN

John wrote:

I am the librarian at a small, rural public library in southwest Indiana.  As one of the few institutions in our town of 2,000 that strive to bring culture into this dim corner of our nation, your book has the potential to do much good here.  Our library attracts the worthy few in our community who are not wholly content to subsist on an intellectual diet of high school basketball and dancing celebrities.  Our Young Adult population, for whom we maintain a separate room and collection, would be especially well-served by your book, which is, in my opinion, exactly the kind of original humor that creates an appreciation for the printed page and its potential.  Please help me pry their minds loose from the iron grip of Maple Story.

Farmers Branch Manske Library, Farmers Branch, TX

Alicia wrote:

The Manske Library is, like so many other libraries, feeling the pinch of a reduced budget. We had 5 staff members laid off last September and 3 positions frozen since then. Our materials budget has been cut 12%. Wondermark books such as Clever Tricks are not going to make our list of books we can buy unless we get it donated from a patron or publisher. The children need new books! Think of the children! (or adults like me who cling tenaciously to the last remnants of youth) Plus, I can’t afford to share your work with all my librarian friends, who NEED to be introduced to the wonder that is Wondermark.

James E. Walker Library, MTSU, Murfreesboro, TN

Jacob wrote:

Tennessee is going through a financial crisis right now, and Middle Tennessee State University is facing SEVERE budget cuts. MTSU also has one of the largest libraries in the state. We have a woefully small comics section in our library and, as a big fan of yours (and comics in general) I think it would be a privilege to have one of your books in our library.

Groton Public Library, Groton, NY

John wrote:

Hello!  We’re a small public library with a limited budget.  I’m a new director here and one of my goals is to open up some sections I think would be popular but have not received a lot of attention over the years.  One of those areas is humor.  Our humor collection consists of under 10 books.  1 Foxtrot collection, 1 Far Side book, and 4 Peanuts books.  I’ve picked up some humor for free lately at local charity booksales, but not very much, a couple of headlines from the Onion books.  I would really appreciate more for our humor collection, if you can.

Sophie B. Wright Charter School, New Orleans, LA

Gina wrote:

I am the first-time librarian at this school in New Orleans. It is a great school and the kids LOVE, and I do mean LOVE, to read. My biggest problem is that I have no budget to add new books to the shelves. However, the shelf that is most plundered is my comic bookshelf. (Yes, they have their own shelf. I love comics! And, so do my students.) They rarely have books left on that shelf on Fridays. I think that your book would be a valuable addition to my shelves, and since I am unable to purchase any books this year (due to financial cuts in education) — this would be a special donation to a library that is truly appreciated by its patrons.

East Carolina University Special Collections, Greenville, NC

L.K. wrote:

ECU Special Collections has a reference collection. The addition of a Malki ! item to our collection would:
- show researchers ( esp undergraduates many of whom are approaching primary materials for the 1st time) how primary materials can be adaptively relevant
- be an example to other librarians how special collections are fun too. Historical materials are not just old ledgers and dry spinsters’ diaries. But you knew that.
- put you one up on Jeph Jacques who gets a lot of attention, because his little brother is/was enrolled at ECU. He is cool enough, but giving us a book with make you #1 in our hearts by a mile.

Sidney McMath Library, Little Rock, AR

John wrote:

Not only is my profession dominated by women, but women make up some 3/4 of my patrons as well. One thing guys of all ages check out is “graphic novels” display which is eating away at the high-traffic Reference section like a beautiful cancer. They gravitate over while they wait for their computer reservations and walk out with a half dozen trade paperbacks. I am proud to say that I have built one of the best collections in my system, but comic-strips anthologies are still dominated by Garfields and little more contemporary than a volume of Mutts or Pearls Before Swine. I would love for the first David Malki book in our system to live at my branch, so that people can see that intelligent and hilarious need not be mutually exclusive, and that you don’t need tights and capes to tell a great story.

The Churchill School, Mexico City, Mexico

Sebastian wrote:

I’m the Head Librarian of the Churchill School, a bilingual School in the retrochaoticfuturistic Mexico City… (a blob of urban infection, where postmodern strains of mutant virus mix fight the ancient warriors of  herbomedicine traditions… where the electropolice eyes follow the ways of banned subcultures, hidden in underground bunkers of concrete mayan style…) I guess down here, our overbored secondary students could make good use of these “Clever Tricks to Stave Off Death”… but I leave it to your discretion… and as Emily Bronte wrote: “vain are the thousand creeds /that move men’s hearts, unutterably vain, /worthless as withered weeds…”)

Health Sciences Library, Northeast Georgia Medical Center, Gainesville, GA

Erin wrote:

Everybody thinks of public libraries first, and then maybe about school libraries. That’s where most people stop thinking about libraries at all. I work in a different kind of library, though — one inside a hospital. In addition to helping doctors and nurses find the information they’ll turn in to high-quality care, we provide a peaceful place for patients and families of patients to feel whole again. They can check email, learn about a new diagnosis, or pick up a good book that has nothing to do with being sick. I would love it if your book were one of those.

Thanks again to everyone who wrote — I wish I could award more books, and perhaps I’ll be able to again in the future! I didn’t get anyone buying books specifically for donation, so these ten are what I will be sending out. Library folks, expect to see these coming your way in a couple weeks.

I would also encourage everyone out there — authors, readers, or just people with too many books in their homes — to consider your local library for donations. Even if they can’t put everything on the shelves, they earn revenue from selling donated materials at book sales, and in this time of slashed budgets and job-seeking and increased media literacy, it’s more important than ever that libraries stay open and available.

STILL TO COME: Results from the bloggers!

It’s been a few years since I last mentioned this stuff, so I’m gonna share it again for the benefit of new readers! Back when my wife and I were first engaged, we were both working in movie advertising. So naturally, after setting a date, the first thing we did was make a poster (above, click for bigger).

Then, we made a trailer:

‘Getting Married’ Trailer

(if you don’t have Flash, here are lo-res and hi-res QuickTime versions)

And being action-movie fans, we decided we needed an action-movie cake:

It was designed by me and created by Mike’s Amazing Cakes in Redmond, WA. Click the image for a closer look!

If you have further sinister curiosity about our wedding itself you can always look at some of our vaguely interesting pictures as well. But the main thing is the cake — I’ve seen it linked around the internet anonymously before, and I want to make sure it’s got an attribution attached to it.

By the way each tier was a different flavor

Some great comments and emailed feedback from my recent Postmark Experiment. Here are some of my favorites:

Before his retirement after 40+ years at the USPS, my father was a postmaster for several post offices in Puerto Rico (where they currently have only 1 APC on the whole island! – a travesty to be sure), so I was taught at a young age all of the official state abbreviations, got to climb into the very first long-life vehicle (the now-common mail trucks that replaced the Jeeps), and was required to use the APC to send just about anything to my dad. So, that fact that someone else not only uses and enjoys the machine, but also experiments with the machine makes me feel like I am not the only post office nerd in the world. (From Sara)

Maybe things have changed since I was a youngster, but in the good old days, I’ve sent letters with S&H Green Stamps, stamps from book clubs and so on. ( There may have been the odd stamp from the Columbia Record Club in the mix). IIRC, they all arrived just fine. (From Mister Zip)

And in the same vein:

There are some guys here in Chicago that make “art stamps” that are most interesting when sent through the postal service and canceled. Some with guns, drugs, boobs, odd things to run through the post office. And they’ve had some nasty nasty nasty dealings with “the man”. http://www.badpressbooks.com/mhdl.html (From smonkey)

Finally, a LiveJournal reader reminded me about my all-time favorite postal experiment, and one of my favorite things on the internet period:

Having long been genuine admirers of the United States Postal Service (USPS), which gives amazingly reliable service especially compared with many other countries, our team of investigators decided to test the delivery limits of this immense system. We knew that an item, say, a saucepan, normally would be in a package because of USPS concerns of entanglement in their automated machinery. But what if the item were not wrapped? How patient are postal employees? How honest? How sentimental? In short, how eccentric a behavior on the part of the sender would still result in successful mail delivery?

Well worth a read.

Every year, on April 15, I see long lines at the post office as people wait to send in their payment, and similarly at other times of year when corporate taxes and other deadline-specific filings come due. Now, most of these people are certifying or registering their mail, and thus require a visit to the retail counter. But last year I overheard the following exchange just as the post office was closing at 7PM:

CUSTOMER: I need to get this postmarked by today!

EXHAUSTED CLERK: No. We’re closed. You need to go to the main depot [8 miles away], they’re open till 11.

CUSTOMER: It’s already stamped! Can’t you just cancel the stamp for me? It’ll take two seconds!

EXHAUSTED CLERK: Sir, we’re closed. You need to go to the depot.

This was a person who didn’t need the added certainty of registered or certified mail; he just wanted to get his check out before the deadline. All he wanted was a postmark reading April 15.

While this exchange was occurring, I was staring directly at this:

This is the Automated Postal Center. It prints stamps. Stamps with dates on them.

My neighborhood post office has an APC in a 24-hour-accessible lobby. Before I got the Endicia system to print postage at home, I often went to the APC to mail packages in the middle of the night. Any stamp bought before midnight is printed with that day’s date.

One day I realized that all the packages I was mailing weren’t being processed until the following day, and thus their stamps were a full day old. This didn’t seem to be a problem — in fact, now, in the course of my business, I often print stamps on a Friday or Saturday that don’t get mailed until Monday, and I’ve never had any sort of problem.

And then came the day when I realized I hadn’t sent a rent check yet, and it was already the evening of the third — the last postmark day before my landlord charges a late fee. I was out running errands, so I stopped by the post office, printed a stamp from the APC, and took it home. The next morning (the fourth), I mailed the check — the idea being that as far as my landlord knew, it was mailed on time.

Let me repeat this for emphasis: Nobody knew that I hadn’t actually mailed the check on the day I was supposed to. I’ll also clarify that rarely had I ever seen APC stamps, especially on packages, be canceled — so, often, the only date on the envelope would be the date printed on the stamp.

So last April, as I watched the long lines of people wait to mail their taxes, I thought: How many days after April 15 could you still send a tax form with an April 15 stamp? In other words, could you print out an April-15 stamp, go home and finish your taxes, then actually mail the check a week later? Would that work? Or would there be an additional postmark added? Would the letter even arrive?

Let me take time out here for a sanity-check caveat. I am not suggesting that you mail your taxes late, or that this method is in any way reliable or a substitute for doing things correctly. Still, I was curious. So I did the following experiment:

On April 15 of this year, I went to my local APC at 10:30 PM, long after the actual post office had closed. My intent was to buy ten first-class stamps and mail them in succession, seeing how old the stamps would have to be before the letters would start being returned, as well as whether or not they would be canceled with an additional, dated postmark.

The APC has a few purchasing restrictions. One of them is that you can’t make a single purchase for less than a dollar. If you try to buy first-class stamps, it’ll default to a minimum purchase of a dollar rather than let you buy a 44¢ (or, at the time, 42¢) stamp. Anticipating this, I’d brought along a package that needed to be shipped, and bought that (two-dollar-something) stamp first. After that purchase, the APC asked if I’d like to charge something else to the same card, and I said yes. Because I did!

Another restriction is that you can only buy five stamps at a time for the same value. My intent was to buy ten, so I bought two batches of five:

Soon, I had ten first-class stamps, all dated April 15:

I figured that to really put these stamps to the test, I should send the letters to an address relatively far away — to make sure it went through a lot of depots, verification centers, biometric drug-sniffers, or whatever. I don’t know how this stuff works; I assumed the barcode encoded a lot of crucial information about where the letter came from, where it was going, and how long the stamp should be honored. So I arranged with friends a thousand miles away (in Seattle) to receive the letters, and as a control subject, sent one letter that night of April 15:

The next letter was sent the next day:

…And so on, at increasing intervals of time, through April 29, a full two weeks after the date of the stamp. I expected that letters sent in the first week or so would arrive, and then they’d start coming back.

I was wrong. They all made it.

Three to five days after each letter was sent from Los Angeles, it arrived in Seattle. I happened to be going to Portland, Oregon during the trial period, so I sent one letter from there; despite the “from a California ZIP code” embedded in the barcode, it made it to Seattle just fine.

Now, perhaps this isn’t so surprising. After all, a stamp is a stamp, and most letters and packages fly through the postal system without anybody second-guessing them. I was clearly wrong about there being a system of CIA-grade laser scanners checking every barcode on every letter for anything awry, but really, that was wishful thinking on my part. I began to tear up my 24 fanfic. Bauer would never follow that last remaining lead now! And the conspiracy threatened to go all the way to the Postmaster General.

The interesting part was that, as predicted, not all of the stamps arrived with cancellations. Of the ten sent to Seattle, only six arrived there canceled — meaning that four envelopes (40%) arrived indicating only the April 15 date and no other postmark.

I had my friend put a new address label on those four envelopes and drop ‘em back in the mail — and they all made it back to me in Los Angeles just fine. Now we had letters being sent successfully over a month after the date on the stamp, to say nothing of these stamps having been used twice with no problems. Roughly the same ratio of this second set arrived with cancellations: only two out of the four, or 50%.

Then, in May, the postal rates went up. One-ounce first-class mail increased to 44¢, instead of the 42¢ I had paid. Like the “Forever” stamps, I wondered if the two remaining un-canceled stamps held their value. So two weeks ago, while in San Diego for Comic-Con, I re-mailed the two remaining un-canceled letters, now hoping for a third trip on each stamp. Did they arrive safely? Any guesses?

Of course they did, just a few days later. And again, only 50% (one out of the two — I know it’s hardly statistically significant, but still) arrived canceled. Both were sent in July (a week apart), over three months after the date on the stamp, a hundred miles away from the ZIP code where each stamp was purchased for 2¢ less than the current first-class rate. What is that bar code for, I wonder?

The moral of the story? Perhaps it’s that the Post Office is forgiving. Maybe it’s that those APC stamps last forever. I wouldn’t necessarily use them for time-sensitive stuff like taxes, because you’re definitely playing the odds against having the stamp canceled with an official, dated postmark. But in a pinch, I wouldn’t toss the idea out the window either.

I still have one stamp from April 15 that, as far as I know, is still good. Maybe I’ll keep it safe, and mail myself something every April 15 for years to come until its luck finally runs out and it’s canceled. Or if I don’t, then maybe I can imagine that this is the Lucky Stamp. A hero stamp. Immune. A three-time mail traveler, weathered with toil and still valid besides. How many stamps in history can claim that?

UPDATE: Follow-up!

Last note about Tweet Me Harder for a while, don’t worry. We now have an iTunes feed for the podcast, so that’s a handy way to listen without having to go to the site (though every episode is also archived there for streaming). We just wrapped up our fourth show, and I think it keeps getting better. Subscribe on iTunes to get all the latest, automagically!

This is a re-post, with photos newly added, of an essay I wrote a few years ago. It was originally published in the AOPA ePilot newsletter, March 2007.

My earliest memories are of pointing to the sky, having detected the far-off drone of a piston engine. Dad had been a pilot since before I was born. He flew a pea-green Cessna 172 from Rialto Municipal in Southern California. I can remember with crystal clarity those lazy Saturday afternoons at the airport, helping him push back the big hangar doors and leaning my small weight against the airplane’s struts as he pulled it into the sun.

I read him checklists, learning words like “aileron,” “magnetos,” and “pitot” that no one else in my first-grade class knew. I drew airplanes and helicopters all over every piece of paper I could find, proudly telling Dad that I was going to grow up to be a “helicopter designer.” I went to the library, looked up the addresses of every aircraft manufacturer I could think of, and sent them packets of drawings. (Grumman was the only one that responded, with a very nice letter and some glossy 8-by-10-inch photos of fighters.)

But, as a teenager, I had “better” things to do than hang out at the airport. I turned down invitations to fly out for breakfast — that would require getting up too early on weekend mornings. Eventually, I graduated from high school and moved away for college, beginning to build my life in a new city. I saw Dad less and less frequently. He talked occasionally about flying out to visit me, but then he lost his medical and sold the plane. At 75 years of age, he was grounded.

Over the next few years his health deteriorated further. He lost weight, and his energy flagged. When I did see him, he often sat slumped in his chair in a defeated pose I’d never encountered before.

And then, one morning, I got the call that the ambulance had come in the middle of the night to take him away. I rushed to the hospital and met, for the first time, a thin, sad figure that I hardly recognized as my father — so different from the strong, robust figure of my childhood. I drove him home that day, driving as carefully as I could, and knew that he was weak when he never once bothered to comment on my driving!

That night I told my then-girlfriend (now my wife) about how much I regretted passing up the opportunity to fly more with Dad when I’d had the chance. I mentioned that in the back of my mind, I’d always thought that I’d become a pilot someday. I’d just never done anything about it.

A few weeks later, for Valentine’s Day, she surprised me with a $49 introductory flight at a local flight school. I grinned like a chimp as I climbed into the school’s Piper Cherokee. When the Lycoming engine barked to life, it was as if a spark had jumped a gap in my heart — the love, vigor, and excitement of my childhood came rushing back.

As the instructor led me through some simple maneuvers, I realized that flying had to be part of my life again. The instructor complimented me on how comfortable I seemed in the sky and how sure my movements were — I told him that I’d done this before.

Before I left the airport that day, I bought a logbook and had the instructor sign the first line. I was working an evening shift at the time, so I worked flying lessons into my morning schedule. Within three months, I had my private pilot certificate and was as happy as I’d ever been.

But by now, Dad’s condition had gotten worse. His energy was very low. I’d told Mom about the flying lessons, but I didn’t tell Dad — I wanted it to be a surprise.

Dad still liked to go to the airport now and then to watch the airplanes and perhaps chat with some of the pilots. Mom told me about a fly-in breakfast that was coming up and said she would make sure he’d be there. When the day came, I took to the air, flying the one-hour cross-country to my hometown. As I taxied from the runway to transient parking, I found Mom leading Dad across the ramp toward me.

The first words out of his mouth were, “Why didn’t you tell me?” I laughed and gave him a hug.

The next thing he said was a string of admonishments — “Always watch the weather. Don’t spend too much money. Always be careful taxiing. Take the time to do a proper preflight.” Once I heard his strict tone, I knew that the old Dad was back, if only for the day.

Mom coaxed him into the cockpit, and I gingerly steered the plane onto the same runway that was featured so heavily in my favorite childhood memories. With a roar the Cherokee pulled us into the air, and a trip around the pattern rushed by all too quickly. On final, I asked him if he wanted to go around again. Feeling the stress of the flight, he declined. I let the plane down gently, pulled off the runway, and taxied back to parking.

Mom and I helped him climb down the Cherokee’s wing, and Mom asked him about the flight. “Sure, David’s a good pilot,” he said. Coming from him, this was high praise.

In the months that followed, he weakened further. I took any opportunity I could to visit him, even as his speech and breathing became labored. We discussed where I’d flown recently, and he told me stories of notable trips he’d taken. He continued to warn me about the hazards of not watching the weather, a lesson I’ve taken to heart.

Dad passed away about four months after the fly-in. My first flight ever had been as his passenger, and his last flight had been as mine. I continued to revisit the little Southern California airports that we’d been to together.

At Apple Valley, an airport in the desert northeast of Los Angeles, a restaurant wall is decorated with handwritten messages from 60 years’ worth of pilots who’ve passed through. Names and dates fight for space on the long, painted brick expanse. I remembered this place. I wondered if I’d written anything there.

I spent 15 minutes searching the wall, trying to find my own name. Instead, I found Dad’s — dated five years before I was born.

The ink had faded over the decades, and the name was partially covered by newer additions. I borrowed a marker from the waitress and inked over his signature, smiling as I recognized his familiar scrawl. I colored in his name and date, and then added my own beneath it. Mine was a little bit smaller, a little bit newer, a little bit sloppier — but it was right next to Dad’s.

I think Kris and I took a big step up with this show, relative to the first, and look forward to seeing where we take this in the future! Our next show will be Tuesday, June 16th, and if you like, you can listen live at tweetmeharder.tumblr.com.

SHOW 2: Houses Made of Bones / 1hr 13min / June 10, 2009 / #tmh2

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Last night Kris and I recorded the pilot episode of our new podcast, Tweet Me Harder! I won’t be posting every episode here at Wondermark, but as this is the first I thought it’d be fun to share. For more info, visit the show’s official site or follow @tweethard on Twitter.

SHOW 1: Parka Car Wash / 1hr 13min / June 3, 2009 / #tmh1

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