good grief.

Being that San Diego's been a mere week and some change ago, AND seeing how one of this year's con themes was how "Peanuts" had just hit the big 6-0, I figured today's update would be a good time to touch on just how much Snoopy and Charlie Brown ended up being inadvertent grandparents to the Grey Bouquet gang at large.

Now, this humble doodle wrangler honestly has no idea what Charles Schultz would've thought of Amnio and company, if he'd had a chance to see them. I doubt he'd have a bad word for them, as he seems the kind to never hand those around too much.

One thing I DO know is, my dad is in absolute hetero love with good ol' "Sparky," and has been before I was old enough to open my eyes at the Sunday funny pages. In fact, I daresay my father's admiration for Mr. Schultz has only ripened over the years, like a fine wine, if that fine wine also wore Schroeder and Lucy ties to work several times a week. "That Charles Schultz... I mean, wow. You just don't SEE that kind of genius around anymore, you know?" was not an uncommon phrase to pop up over the family dinner table at the slightest provocation.

Which, I should add, is a sentiment I'm behind one hundred per cent. Sure, I could've picked "hating on Peanuts" as an easy path for teenage rebellion-- much easier than, say, picking up the odd recreational drug habit, or voting Green Party-- but I couldn't ever bring myself to dislike the series, even now. All things blockheaded and fussbudgety have simply grown on me far too much.

It especially fascinated me to read Mr. Schultz's family members claim that he often acted as though he was actually seeing the Peanuts characters in his mind-- like he was writing down their lives for the rest of us to peek in on. Not to mention how he passed on right when he stopped doing the strip... If he really did have such an insight into a whole family of his brainchildren, how lonely would that be, having to say goodbye to them all? The idea dogged me so deeply that my first minicomic, The Strange Tale of Charlie Dickenson (a timid-lined, cobbled-together-in-three-days attempt to pass something around at Wizard World Chicago in 2001) was pretty much created whole-cloth from such a scenario.

(Interesting to note: a couple mermaid-sockpuppets showed up in the background of few of Charlie's "vision" panels in the story, both of whom were dead ringers for Riddlyn. Right down to the snazzy fez. Relatives of hers, maybe? Mermaid-sockpuppets ARE kinda hard to tell apart...)

When it comes down to it, it was having my dad call the notebook sketches of odd critters I'd do "not like Schultz's stuff at all" that got the ball rolling towards the Afterworld in the first place. If I remember right: "You'll never see any money drawing scary stuff like that. People want to see nice drawings, like Snoopy! Snoopy makes people SMILE. If you want to keep drawing, you should go into making greeting cards. Something cute. Fun, you know?"

...which kinda paints my dad in a curmudgeonly light, come to think of it, so I should stress: he really did have a point. Those first gasmask-fetus sketches of mine weren't done to make anyone happy-- hell, the fetus in question looked like he was downright miserable in half the drawings I put him in. But a couple months wandering around in my head later, I was trying to stitch together what a little gasmasked fetus kid MIGHT be like. He'd be like any other kid, right? Even if everything around him was as gloomy and toxic as he looked, he'd still want to run around and play. He'd still have fun. And before long, I had a whole cast of critters there to enjoy the ride along with him-- first on a handful of greeting cards, and THEN THE WORLD! well, you know the rest.

Since I started this shindig, I've been thrilled over and over again to see just how many folks agree that something can be creepy and heartwarming at the same time. And every time I sit behind a table with my Grey Bouquet stuff, I couldn't be more delighted-- because even though Amnio and the rest may not have such inviting surroundings as a bright red doghouse, a nickel-psychologist booth, or the old baseball mound, I can still show people what Happiness Is through those in the Afterworld, a little bit at a time.

And that's awesome. :D