Welcome back to Sad Trombone Monday: an accumulation of asinine apparati that angers the assemblage. Hope your Monday SUCKS! BLEAHHHH!

Either I’ve suddenly become retarded beyond medical definition, or I’m actually seeing this. This company makes the bold claim that “white” is a color. And, now that I think about it, that’s what I’ve been saying for YEARS! White IS a color, and the color White deserves as much rights as, say, the color Orange or Purple. So I don’t understand why every time I take my “White Rights!” sign outside this supermarket, the cops show up and put a baton up my ass. I suppose my struggle for White Rights continues! [SAD TROMBONE!!!]

I ran into this record in Tennessee, and kind of regret not buying it. I have a party coming up, and if there’s a Tunnel Banger out there, it’s Uncle Bud’s Hospital Experience. The wacky font really sets the tone for the 60+ minutes of this Dr. John Harvey Kellogg looking ma’fucka’s in-depth essay about his excruciating hospital stay. I, for one, can’t wait to hear that old colostomy bag chestnut [SAD PEE TROMBONE!]

If there’s one guy we know who will stand up for the family farmer, it’s Richie Farmer, KY Dept. of Ag Commissioner. [SAD TROMBONE!]

Guess which item is misspelled? On one hand, hogs don’t have wings. But Illinois is really good at finding a way to make greasy, terrible fucking food where none exists. Even if that mean inbreeding hogs with seagulls, murdering them, battering them, and creating an unholy appetizer known as “Hog Wings.” Also, Lemonade is misspelled. Thanks for playing. And thanks for stopping by Leatherface’s Corn Dog Shack. [SAD FAT TROMBONE!]

“Next stop, Infinite Suffering! Please stand clear of the closing axes please…next stop, Eternal Hell.” I really should have opened that Puzzle Box before I got on the Metra. (Courtesy of Sad Tromboner Alex Kropniak!)

[NOTE: This post originally ran on Aug. 17, 2009. It's re-printed now because I'm lazy for your enjoyment.]

SO what did you miss this weekend? For one, it was apparently the anniversary of Woodstock. I don’t know about you, but it seems like just yesterday that Trent Reznor was rolling around in that mud and setting squat-o-potties on fire. I only get my news from Yahoo!, and they were all over this story:

Shown: Jimi Hendrix—what HAS he been up to these days? Also, Mona Lisa and Charles Manson: Who Wore It Best?

But for the tens of people who read this blog, you’ll also be interested to know that this weekend, the Illinois State Fair kicked off! And, as usual, there was a lot of incredible, culturally worthwhile stuff to take in.

For only $10, you could have your own Jesus Christ The Supper Star Hat. This hat’s message is loud and clear: Can Jesus eat 200 hot dogs? You bet your ass. Is the invention of Brunch a lie sandwich from the pit of whole wheat hell? Yes indeed, brethren. Will God’s only begotten son always use his fork in a “tines-up” orientation, obeying the utensil etiquette painstakingly laid out in the New Testament? Damn right. And that’s because Jesus Christ is a Supper Star.

Here’s another classy piece for your wardrobe…

“Wow,” some of you may say. “This is what I’ll wear to my job interview.” And you’re in luck, because there were a whole series of these tees.

And THEN, as is custom at the state fair, a lifesize butter carving of DJ Qualls, designed to tie in with Road Trip: Beer Pong (available now on DVD and Blu-Ray!)

Now that’s what I call a QUALL-ity butter sculpture! Now that’s also what I QUALL giant balls on that Butter Cow! Or maybe that’s an udder! Or should I say…BUTTER!

AND FINALLY, an annual trip to the HAM, BACON and PROCESSED BEEF SHOW! Well worth the $35 admission. This year, they flew in a shank cut of smoked ham from Wisconsin, and a Brine Cured, Streaky Bellied Fatback Bacon from, you guessed it, Ham Lake, Minnesota (Town motto: “We Exist!”)

Shown: My wife, surprised that we’re not even close to where I said we were going when we got in the car! Zing-o! That’ll teach her to be a trusting wife!

Shown: My two favorite pictures of me standing in solidarity with meat. The first is from the 2009 Ham, Bacon and Processed Beef “Show,” (which is a bunch of meat behind a fucking window an actual “show” in every respect of the word). The second is my Bacon and Meth-addled mugshot from that weekend at the Ham Lake, MN police department, obtained under the Freedom of Information Act.

I avoid eye contact with three things, and I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting them from 50 yards out: Evangelicals, Homeless Dudes and Abortions. Not people for or against abortions, just actual abortions…like in a box on the side of the road or whatever. Usually it just ends up being some old pizza, but I’m always afraid I’ll come face to face with one (or face to mostly-formed-face, I suppose). ANYWAY, I end up walking past this booth with this box:

“What’s in the Box??!? WHAT’S IN THE BOX WHAT’S IN THE BOXXX?!?!”

There’s all these bible verses hanging on the booth, and this guy is just standing next to the box smiling. Another thing I’ve learned to watch out for, is guys standing next to boxes with holes cut in the top. It’s like the old saying goes: Fool me once, I grabbed a dick. Fool me TWICE…

Plus, there could be any number of abortions, homeless guys, more Evangelicals, Gweneth Paltrow’s head…it’s just freaking me out. But clearly, it’s okay for children over 12.

So let’s check it out, ya Dingus!

Simply amazing. Kudos, nice old man. Kudos. Your life will be spared when Pan, The Goat God, returns to Earth for the final vanquishing.

Check out Last Year’s Incredibly Bizarre State Fair Coverage HERE!

Not content to be outdone by The Racist $25,000 Pyramid, this extremely familiar-can’t-place-her-80s-character actor (Jillian something? Little help, Jesse Thompson? Was she a voice on Turbo Teen or something?) gives her best clue possible for “Japan.” Thankfully, she passes before resorting to “Dirty Knees” or “Look At These.”

Ok, It’s not exactly Mel Gibson-level stuff going on here, but if there were a Perez Hilton page for Z-List Celebs, I’d like to think this makes the front page underneath something about Clint Howard or Reb Brown canoodling at Dick’s Last Resort.

Oh, no, Ichiro! She doesn’t mean it like that! Aww, see what you did, lady?

[UPDATE: Jesse "Junkstore" Thompson has no idea who this is either, and this is the guy who knows who Joe "Bean" Esposito is by heart]
[UPDATE UPDATE: "That's Teresa Ganzel from Transylvania 6-5000" says Adam "I'm the only one who's ever uttered that sentence" Tracey.]

I’m about to go to Lollapalooza for three whole days, so I think my new strip is appropriate (click for full size).

—In other news of note, I was right about Tommy Wisseau and the sneaking suspicion I had about his “legal council,” thanks to commenter Rebochan:

Just thought I’d let you know, “John” actually *is* Tommy Wiseau. He got outed in a Harper’s Bazaar article some time back and his little war with The Nostalgia Critic is getting this publicized.

—The JC in the Hood Crew are speaking up. Onward Ghetto Soldiers! (read last comments on page).

Every night I spend alone in my wood-paneled basement leads me to the same conclusion: I wish I could play a VCR Mystery Game with self-decapitating robots. Apparently, the purpose of this game is to save the Earth from robots, which kind of goes against Issac Assimov’s Three Laws of Robotics. But a game where you’re just ordering robots around wouldn’t be too fun, I guess. So instead, the game involves a robot ripping it’s own head off and coldly relaying that “you’ve made a mistake” before it, I assume, uses your intestines as a leash for its Robot Dog. Good, clean, terrifying fun for all. “Wanna come over? I’ve got this game where Robot Paul Reiser tears off its own head to prove a point. It’s for up to 4 players? No? Ok, maybe some other time! Just text me if you change your mind! I have no friends LOL.”

Let’s watch the commercial, as I imagine it in my mind. Thanks to Gary Hodges for passing this tape along!

“Within 5 minutes, you’ll be on one of 256 possible courses to save the galaxy.” It’s like the Butterfly Effect, if the fabric of time were limited to 80 minutes of SLP video!

This is an Amway propaganda tape I picked up about the dangers of common, every day tap water. She’s just watching out for her children’s interests, at the end of the day. Good for her.

Harvey gave me this before he sped away in his crappy car back in 2005 I think.

If he could see it, this would be the biggest day of Harvey Pekar’s life. All these people talking about him, reminiscing about his life and work…I can see that shit-eating grin crawl over his face right now. Man, he would have loved this. My wife woke me up this news, and I’ve been having a hard time processing it. I should have called Harvey more. He loved getting phone calls and letters. We both shared a love of attention and need for approval.

The last time I talked to Harvey in person was at his house in Cleveland. My wife and I had left New York behind, and he had mentioned we should stop by on our way back to Illinois. I called him once we got closer, and we were still debating if we should stop or not. We had Champ with us in the back, we’d been driving all day, it was kind of out of the way, etc., etc., etc….

I called, and he sounded pretty bad. Like, worse than usual. Joyce was leaving him, he said. She’d had it. I didn’t know what to say…what do you say to the most famously depressed man, on the most depressing day of his life? He kept insisting we come over, and I could tell he really wanted us to.

So we pull up, crack the windows for Champ and all I could think about was someone getting into my car. I’m really uptight about things being locked, even though I come from a town where no one locks anything. And one of my biggest fears is my cat getting loose. My car getting broken into and my cat getting loose in Cleveland ranks right up there. I remember that’s really what I was thinking about. My shit.

So we go in the house and it’s a mess of course, and there are jazz records and shit everywhere kind of like your house. Harvey had a passion for jazz, and that’s the one thing we never really talked about. He cleared an area for Sarah and I to sit, and had us sit down. He was real depressed, mumbling and growling and all that. DC had recently decided to put out American Splendor again, and he wanted me to look at his first story.

It was about a diner that was closing…some famous Cleveland diner. He had it all laid out in these stick figures, and hand written text. It was like comics I made as a kid. And then we just sit there in fucking SILENCE as I read this thing, and my wife watches me read this thing, and Harvey stares at me with this unblinking, big-eyed stare of his. Like, he’s on the edge of his seat just staring at me while I read.

So he’s clearly having an anxiety attack because I’m reading his work, and he wants to know what I think. Harvey Pekar wants to know what I think. I still can’t get over this part. And I can barely focus on the comic, because I’m afraid to say anything. I make sure to laugh where I think I should, and say “Hmm” like a doctor would. But all I can think about is my cat, my shit, and Harvey’s feelings, and Joyce leaving, and all that. I said “you’ve got something here” and “here’s what I like” and “here’s what you should do here” and all this stuff. Kind of tip-toeing around being critical, but not wanting be obviously kissing his ass, or phony. He wouldn’t respect that. Sarah, at this point, is jumping out of her skin she’s so uncomfortable. She only knew Harvey from the movie, and suddenly she’s in his living room, eyeball to buggy eyeball.

I remember him thanking me for my input. I remember some small talk about New York, and moving. I remember him saying he thought I was talented, and if I ever wrote something I should pass it to him, and he could try to get it published. I remember looking that gift horse in the mouth. I remember my drinking getting pretty bad when I moved home, and calling him and everyone else less and less. I can’t remember the last time we talked on the phone, or what it was about. I haven’t talked to Harvey in a long time. I took him for granted. And now that’s that.

I think this is one of the last recorded conversations we had, I was digging through my notes and quotes from that time. It was almost 5 years ago to the day I was lucky enough to spend an entire, uninterrupted day with Harvey Pekar. He wasn’t just an interview subject, but a friend who has had one of the biggest impacts on my personal and creative life. Here’s just bit of our conversation from my notes about that feature. The thing I’ve really taken away from this day is that I’ll always be a lot like Harvey: I’m never happy until the work is done, and the work is never done. My heart goes out to Joyce and Danielle, and everyone else with stories exactly like mine.

PEKAR CEMETARY QUOTES.DOC

[we get to the hospital Harvey worked at and decide just to drive by]

HARVEY: There probably won’t be anyone at the hospital I know. Well, I suppose if I went around and looked for them I could find somebody I know—you know, the clerks and stuff like that are off on the weekend. It’s also a matter of getting through security and stuff like that.

Toby’s always been an interesting character. He’s an interesting guy. I always thought, you know, he’s been shit on for a lot of his life. Especially when he was going to school and kids would pick on him and stuff like that. But, you know, he’s a bright guy I just think he’s autistic. He fits the textbook description of Asperger’s Disease so well.

[Near cemetery]

This is where President Garfield was buried. They’ve got a big tomb for him and stuff like that. I think Rockefeller’s buried in there.

This is morbid of me but what would you like you’re tombstone to say?

I haven’t thought about that. I haven’t particularly thought about that. When I’m dead I’m assuming I won’t be hovering around watching in the form of a ghost.

Do you have any beliefs in the afterlife? Is there something else?

No.

So this is as good as it gets?

Well, I haven’t seen anything to make me think…I mean, I’m not dogmatic about it or anything. There’s so much we don’t know—we certainly don’t know a lot more than we know. I mean, anything could happen. Anything could turn out to be true, anything’s possible I guess. I mean, I don’t think about the afterlife much. It’d be nice if there was one.

What do you look for in artwork and writing? What impresses you?

Oh, I don’t know. I look for what I consider accuracy. Accuracy in dialogue, I guess. Realism is one thing I look for.

What do you think about the human condition in general?

Things are getting worse. I think the reason it’s getting worse is because you’ve got all these ecological disasters hanging in the balance now. I mean, things have gotten to a point where you either deal with this or the future of the human race is in severe jeopardy. You know, we don’t know exactly what global warming can do but there’s a lot of scary shit about it. And you know, people are running out of oil and are not trying to come up with some kind of substitute. They’re just putting it off like Bush is.

Are you still a vegetarian?

Yeah. I mean, I’ve never had any problems with it. I can usually get a salad most places.

[at cemetery looking out at Cleveland]

This is, you know, the first time my wife ever appeared in an American Splendor story. It’s called ‘The Garfield Monument’ or Memorial or something.

Do you come places like this to relax?

No. I’m more relaxed at home. At home in bed.

Are you still interested in the mundanties of life or is the subject just something that pays the bills?

I don’t know anything else! If it’s not mundane I haven’t had any experience with it. [laughs]

You talk about getting more notoriety and approval. At what point would you decide ‘I’m famous enough’ and be happy?

I don’t know if I’ll ever reach that point [smiles]. I like praise and attention, there’s no doubt about that. I could still stand a lot more of it before I collapse.

What kind of stuff makes you laugh?

What I have a scholarly interest in is the experimental humor of the ‘50s and ‘60s like Lenny Bruce and stuff like that. I just wrote and article about a guy named Lord Buckly. And Andy Kaufman, that kind of stuff too.

[we are utterly lost driving around in the cemetery]

Do you watch films?

Not really. My wife has to pretty much drag me to see a film. The last one we saw was ‘Star Wars’ [Episode III]. It was terrible. I mean, it was just totally chaotic. All these crazy fight scenes and…[sighs]

Have you ever been surprised by someone who knows who you are?

I was surprised Johnathan Demme knew who I was and wanted to make a film based on my stuff. Every once and a while I’ll hear about an actor or something who knows me. Turns out Steve Buscemi likes my work.

I didn’t look at that whole DVD. It won some kind of award or something.

Have you gotten any free passes from cops? Like, ‘hey I’m Harvey Pekar I was in a movie for fucks sake!’

No, no. The less I have to do with cops the better.

Do you go see live jazz?

No I don’t go out. And this is another area that used to be totally different. There were like five movie theaters and restaurants—it used to be kind of a classy area. It was like Cleveland’s first major shopping district outside of downtown. 105th and Euclid. Just lines of stores and stuff. But they just tore it all down. This was Cleveland’s main drag on the East Side. Now there’s nothing. Nothing’s going on. You don’t see anything here but vacant lots.

The mayor got mad at me one time because of the American Splendor movie. Keep in mind I had nothing to say about what locations they were going to use. But she thought it made Cleveland look terrible, and that I wasn’t being a loyal Clevelander. This was after she had given me some kind of special award for the movie or something. The thing is, I think that’s some of the most interesting stuff about Cleveland. It’s middle and lower class housing and neighborhoods. I think that there’s a variety of housing and architectural styles in Cleveland. I like those double houses like I grew up in.

I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were stuck here for another day. My wife is just, you know, going to act very put out when I get back because I’ve kept the car so long. When I get back it will probably be 2:00.

You can blame me if you need to

No! no….well, if I thought I could get away with it. Nah, she wouldn’t let me off that easy. I’ll just tell her, you know, I wanted to make a good impression.

Why did you stay here all these years?

I stayed in Cleveland because I had a steady job here. Then when I was retired I had a house that was almost paid for, and there was no sense in going anywhere else. I mean, I got a big house for $70,000.

What’s the most common question you get from people?

Oh, I don’t know. I mean, there’s not just one there’s several. I don’t keep track of them anymore.

Do you get grief for being negative or realistic?

Yeah, once in a while I’ll get stuff from people who think I’m just being negative.

COLOR/FEATURE NOTES

•After the park, we swung by the VA hospital just to see where it was. We didn’t go in because Toby doesn’t work on Saturdays. Shit! He caught me up to speed on what Toby’s up to though.

•It’s a beautiful view. A relaxing breeze and a nice day. I ask Harvey where he’s most relaxed, and if he ever comes out to these places to relax. “No, I don’t care about these cemeteries, I just thought you might want to see it. I don’t get out much. I’m most comfortable and relaxed at home in my bed.”

•Trying to leave the cemetery, we got utterly lost. “Where the fuck am I?” he kept saying.

•It was getting late into the afternoon, so he started taking me back to the hotel. We drove down Cleveland’s “main drag,” which is now pretty much vacant lots and abandoned businesses. “There’s nothing here now,” he says.

•“I gotta get the car home or the wife will yell at me.” Later I’d find out they’d still be asleep when he got home. It was 3:30 in the afternoon.

•At the hotel, he told me to call with follow-ups at anytime. “There’s nothing I like more than talking about myself, so call me. It will probably be the highlight of my day!”

•Before getting out of the car, I asked him if he’d sign my sketchbook. He drew me a patented Harvey Pekar, crude stick figure in it with a word balloon “Come Back and See Us Some Time —Harvey Pekar.”

I’ve discovered some sort of time rift that allows me to travel, unharmed, through un-energized ghosts in Pac-Man Championship Edition. IT’S LIKE TOUCHING THE FINGER OF GOD. When it happened I jumped…I couldn’t believe I saw it. And then I died almost immediately. I kind of feel like I’ve seen the Matrix for the first time. I must have watched this 100 times…I can’t figure it out either.

Left to right: Recently deceased Golden Girls Rue McClanahan, Dennis Hopper, Gary Coleman and Slipknot bassist Masky McGee, who committed suicide.

It’s been a rough week on us all as my Celebrity Wristwatch Curse continues. First, I got this Michael Jackson watch as a gift, and now my wife’s Golden Girl watch has claimed its next victim. It’s just like the Monkey’s Paw, but for $20 plastic wristwatches. So that’s the bad news. The good news is, I’ve bought ever single Rod Blagojevich watch and I plan on wearing them up both arms as long as it takes.

Remember, the Golden Girls airs at 6 and 6:30 on WE Network, 11 and 11:30 EST on Hallmark, and 11 and 11:30 on WE again. Also, I’ll see you on the Hallmark Channel forums (yes, they have a thriving message board community! Thank you for asking!)

In memorial, one last time with passion….let’s return to a magical place, sugah. Rue has already been to Cat Mountain, so heaven holds no surprises for her.