Where in the world is Fang Bastardson?

I’ve been everywhere, man. And if I haven’t been there yet, it’s probably on the calendar for August.

Took an impromptu trip back to the family den last weekend to hook up with the sibs who were gathering there that weekend for no discernable reason except that it was Tucson in July, and that always spells a good time.

Had an interesting experience in the Christmas Island airplane terminal while we waited for our flight out. A 4-year-old boy made it his business to befriend The Man Cub (and by extension, me). The kid’s mom (and absent dad) were both in the Army, had been for almost 20 years, and have both served in Afghanistan and Iraq. Her husband currently flies a Blackhawk in Iraq, and she rotates back later this year. We ended up chatting for about an hour. It was fucking fascinating. And she wasn’t inclined to like the people I sterotypically am (anti-war bush-bashing left-wingers) but happily, I was at the top of my game and was able to draw her out without misrepresenting where I was coming from. (Basically, you don’t offer opinions on stuff you don’t know about first-hand, ie: shut the fuck up and listen.)

But I guided the conversation, gently, to some very delicate areas. It was really cool. At the end, I left her with a heart-felt “On behalf of everybody stateside, I just want to say thank you and God bless you.” (She had ID-ed herself as a true believer by repeatedly referring to Iraqis and Afghanis as “heathens” and equating our struggle with Muslim extremists to the Pilgrims’ “troubles” with the equally Godless injuns.) She looked at me half-suspiciously for a second, and when she didn’t see any BS in my face, she teared up. It was an absolutely powerful moment. Later on, on the plane, when The Man Cub was out of control and I was hopelessly flustered, she sent her son up with some Oreos.

Once we finally got to where we were going, it actually was a good time, people-wise. Got into a bloody good row with my new Jamaican… shit, I don’t know what he is – he married my niece. Does that make him my nephew? Step-nephew? I was never good at this geneology stuff. Anyhow, he doesn’t care for the ’omosexuals on account of the Bible, plus they you know, give him the creeps. My older sister and me ganged up on him good and much tense hilarity ensued.

The Man Cub was, of course, a huge hit. Who doesn’t like a someone else’s toddler at the point where he’s talking frequently in some primitive, incomprehensible approximation of what will grow to become his mother tongue? Cute plays well in 90 degree heat and 90 percent humidity in a swamp-coolered double-wide.

Got back home wiped out from a stormy, almost sleepless last night in Tucson and a plane ride with a cranky Man Cub that was frankly no picnic either. And we were on that same airline that recently made news by ejecting an overly-talkative little kid. I swear, I don’t know what I woulda done if I got stuck in the fetid, stifling blot on this great land that is Tucson, Arizona.

Comic-Con is this weekend. I went once in the mid-to-late ’70s, back when it was just a few hundred comic nerds getting together to buy back issues and meet their 4-color idols. I have a photo of me, all 98 pounds, with Steve Gerber, the co-creator of Howard the Duck. I met my all-time favorite artist at that time, and he was a condescending prick to me. It was awesome! We’re too poor to go again this year, but as soon as The Man Cub is old enough to enjoy it, no amount of lack of money will keep me from using my young son as an excuse to travel once again to Geek mecca.

Anyhow, this weekend will instead find my little family in The Big City to celebrate The Missus and my fifth wedding anniversary. Last year we saw Kris Kristofferson in concert, but this year we are poor, which gives us an excellent opportunity to expose The Man Cub to travel by train and a walk around a place we could never possibly afford to live.

Coming up next: If past is prologue, I’ll be back to Bush-bashing by my next post! But a couple people have pointed out that I have been lax in checking in lately and it’s only because I’ve been too busy to be outraged. My traveling days come to end after the The Big City trip though (at least until the dreaded holidays), and I’m hoping my life slides back into its well-worn, comfy rut between The Big City trip and the command performances that inevitably accompany year’s-end.