R. Crumb’s new comic book is out from Fantagraphics. It’s as wordy as it is artsy, and I have a copy for you, mih. To be hand delivered, Wednesday, December 10, at noon.
Click the pic to see the original line art.
Here’s a fun fact. R. Crumb has been buddies with George DiCaprio, since before his son Leonardo was born.
https://www.culturedmag.com/article/2025/11/24/art-robert-crumb-george-dicaprio-david-zwirner/
Click the pic to see her mom, and that should tell you who her dad was.
I’ll soon continue telling the tale of selling my first house. It was heated, as is this house, with forced hot water from an oil burning furnace.
The first home heating oil delivery we ever had, right after moving into our first house, during a cold February, was contaminated with bilge water. The truck had barely pulled away when the furnace stopped working. I had to fight with the numbskulls at this outfit to convince them it was their problem, get the tank pumped out, and the furnace working again.
After what they put us through, and considering I was a first-time customer, you’d think they’d refill the tank for free with good oil as a goodwill gesture. But no, they charged me full price for the delivery. I paid the bill, then fired them and went with another oil company.
But that screw-up, many years ago (I was 32), was nothing compared to this disaster. I doubt they’ll ever be able to get the smell of kerosene out of that house.
Something for your jangled nerves as we approach Thanksgiving and the start of the Christmas season.
Here be the cremated remains of old bills, receipts, bank statements and insurance policies from years gone by. They will not be missed.
When our son was five, we wanted to sell our first house and move closer to where I worked. But we couldn’t do that, because the septic system had failed. I’ll spare you the unpleasant details of how I knew that.
Massachusetts Title 5 regulation requires a functioning septic system, or municipal sewer hookup, to sell a property. The first step was calling the town and requesting a soil percolation test. A licensed inspector with a clipboard and stopwatch came out with a guy holding a shovel and bucket, who requested a hose. He did the digging then poured the water, while the inspector tracked the drainage time.
The soil in my backyard failed the test. The inspector said a new leaching field would require removal of the 24-ft. above-ground pool, along with a big tree. The backyard would have a huge mound with a vent pipe. The estimated cost would be at least $25,000 (equivalent to $50,000 today).
My thought was that, in addition to the cost of a new septic system and leaching field, the backyard would make the property extremely difficult to sell, even at a financial loss. During the recession of the early Nineties, the house had narrowly missed falling into negative equity. For a moment it seemed the best thing to do was get a new septic system, stay in the house, and continue to endure my commute.
But wait, said the inspector. A sewer line would be coming to the street the following year and the town wanted everybody to connect to the new system. Would I be willing to delay putting my house on the market and keep the septic tank pumped out as often as necessary, until the sewer line came to my street?
ABSOLUTELY YES!
He torn up the paperwork for the inspection and said, “I was never here.”
