The Walrus Comix site just turned one - and rather than sitting around shitting its diapers and crying about it, the bouncing bundle of joy posted a pretty decent review I wrote on a pretty remarkable new 'how-to make comics' book. I have now discovered the joy of free review copies.
Anyway, give it a read. And, as ever, take a moment to read other features you'll find there. The roster of writers and site mandate have expanded quite a bit recently, with neat-o features on video games and new music. Although the newest video game review is actually the reviewer critiquing his old girlfriends Nick Hornsby style, so maybe I'm missing the gist of that feature...
Anyway, over to you, Dave: http://www.walruscomix.com/reviewdrawing.html
Welcome back. In local news, today was spent marching through the jungle. I suppose the proper term here is 'tropical rain forest.' As though there were a distinction. Perhaps in order to be a jungle, you need a tiger? This being Puerto Rico, the best they can cough up is a Chupacabra and some coquis, so 'tropical rain forest' it is.
But I digress. The tropical rain forest in question is El Yunque, and is really well-maintained by the sole competent division left to our Federal Government, the National Parks Service. I have to say - not to wax political here, folks - but if the Parks Service can survive eight years of the Bush/Cheney Environmental Bonanaza ("Everything Must Go!"), those are some really dedicated Ranger Ricks.
And the coquis are wonderful, and never fail to make me smile and look at Yesenia when I hear one, echoing off the dense foliage. You never do see them, though. The coquis are loud but tiny, tree frogs about the size of a nickel. They are also bright green and live in the greenest fucking place on the face of the planet. Yesenia spent twelve years living on this island and has never seen one. But you hear them constantly - like the traffic in New York or the voice of doom nattering away at the back of your head, day and night. Only this is the good kind of constant sound, like breakers on a warm summer night, or a light sea breeze rustling the palm fronds outside your window - coincidentally, sounds you'll also find in abundance here on the island.
I'll be sad to go, and not only because it means I won't be seeing my wife for another six days. It's really a great place. But then you go to every restaurant and see the same limited four items over and over again as the entire menu and you're ready to come home. Really, I like deep fried plantains as much as the next guy, but I assure you, there are other things that you can serve as a side dish.
The sign I'm ready to come home: I had a six inch Subway turkey & cheese with Sun Chips tonight, and I was pathetically grateful for it.