This is Pi Day #054
“Don’t get cocky, kid!” -Han Solo
When I was ten, I used some rope and a piece of lumber from the garage to turn my BMX bike into a super glider. With a strapped crosswise to the frame of my bike, the plan was to bike to the top of a nearby hill and, pedaling as fast as I could, achieve flight, the dream of every pre-teen boy, as I floated gracefully above the rooftops.
Not understanding even the most basic aspects of aerodynamics, I felt pretty bad when all the adults laughed me out of business before I’d even tried… probably a good idea in the era before mandatory helmet laws.
The worst that the Kid attempts is attempting out-ride her father on our many neighbourhood cycling jaunts. It’s still early days, I suppose, but a few choice falls lately have knocked her down a peg or two. And I think she’s probably a bit smarter than her old man ever was, anyhow.
This is Pi Day #048
I don’t want to start getting all preachy in this comic. I mean, I know whenever someone builds themselves a platform there is always gonna be that moment when bits of your own personal ideologies can’t help but slurp up onto the stage there with you. But here we are… pick up your garbage? Don’t litter. How political of me huh?
Well, I couldn’t have been prouder. This comic was inspired by a conversation earlier in the week when the (real) kid, contrary to her cartoon counterpart’s obliviousness to the plight, told me that her and her school friends had won the golden garbage can award at her school because (apparently) they had used their recess (on their own initiative, I understand) to pick up spring trash in the school yard.
I think that deserves me bumping this Saturday strip up a week or two in the rotation… and possibly risking a bit of a preachy tone, to boot, no?
This is Pi Day : Bonus #038.1
Hey! Look under there!
I just made you say underwear.
I ran a half marathon this past weekend and in the minus-twenty, brutal weather, bone-numbing cold of it I was trudging along the icy route pondering my own sanity and wrestling with the possibility that I may have misjudged it’s very existence.
Of the four hundred racers, all manner of athletic prowess could be seen — as well as all manner of athletic gear. Tubes, toques, buffs, mitts, balaclavas, headbands, wraps, ski goggles, and more… anything to break through the cold. And it was so cold. One guy who passed me actually — no, really, had three-inch-long icicles dangling from his earlobes. And the race volunteers were dancing, jumping, and never-stop-moving as they reminded us that we runners were all actually a lot warmer than them. Sadly, they were probably right.
Afterwards, basking in the post race defrost, it was a brunch-driven debrief … sometimes literally, as more than one of us was wearing multiple pairs.
This is Pi Day #030
Welcome to winter. It’s officially that.
I was out running for the winter solstice, plodding through the icy streets of our city with about 200 other runners at midnight for the “longest night” run where one might have expected there to be more snow.
I certainly expected that we would have had more snow when I drew this comic, too. Instead, I’ve only been dreaming of getting out on my skis over the holiday season, with the Kid off for two weeks of Christmas break and me with a solid ten days away from the office.
But… no snow.
I guess I’ll just have to draw more comics.
This is Pi Day #013.a
Lettuce turnip the beet. It’s garden party time!
The first thing we “built” in our backyard upon moving into the house was a vegetable garden. I grew six potato plants and a small bunch of chives.
I could get all groovie-hippie-earth-dad here, but the reality is that I just like reminding myself that we wouldn’t completely starve if the food distribution network collapsed: we’d have at least a week’s worth of salad and enough berries to bake a pie or two… over the burning remains of society.
I also didn’t want to have one of those kids who says matter-o-factly that food comes from “the grocery store” when asked. I knew kids like that when I was a scout leader in a big city: Milk comes from a jug. Meat comes from a freezer. Veggies are in aisle one right by the door.
No, The Girl will get her hands dirty, even just a little bit.
And hopefully in the process her dad will learn to grow something besides a heckuva lotta weeds.