King of Chill Town
Comics!
Here’s a story:
So my dad’s a Freemason. 2B1ASK1, man. I don’t know.
And one time he had this special Freemasonic meeting where Rex Chilton — some kind of head honcho of Georgia Freemasonry at the time — was going to be in attendance. So, while it’s probably inaccurate, in my memory Dad got on the full rigout for the occasion: ostrich-feathered galleon hat, sword in scabbard attached somehow to ceremonial apron with event-specific appliqué. Tuxedo. Shiny black patent leather shoes. Cool Water cologne.
We got a call from Dad on his way out of the lodge. Freemasons meet in lodges, and cellphones had not yet metastasized. From what my sister and I overheard, Rex Chilton was coming to our house, right now. They’re on the way. They’ll be here in 12 minutes, and the house is a wreck!
Rex Chilton is coming!
Should we put on nice clothes? Or pretend to be in bed? It’s only like 8!
Also: who is Rex Chilton?
Mom didn’t know, but she was still freaking out, so we stoked her panic with glee.
We over-dramatically arm-swept unopened mail and porcelain figurines and malt vinegar packets into open drawers, Mom yelling at us over the sound of the vacuum cleaner.
We set the centerpiece of the table just so. One tenth of one degree too perfectly. Flowers — flowers? — arranged with clinical, soulless precision. A steganographic smarm. Almost totally imperceptible, but, once detected, unmistakable. A seven-layer wagon wheel dip.
But then a half hour, then an hour passed. Clearly they weren’t coming directly over, but what if they want a nightcap?
We were like “a nightcap?”
They had gone to a steak house after all, and Dad was entertaining Rex the whole time — a really nice guy, by the way — and no cellphones, so he hadn’t had a chance to call.
You wouldn’t have done that, then. It would have been weird to ask to borrow the telephone at a steakhouse not far from home. Maybe if there were a payphone. But probably not. You’d see a payphone in a pizzeria.
That Rex Chilton never got to see the way we’d cleaned the place up — straightened up, really, but with a slippery coat of polish on the kitchen floor, a small candy dish on an armrest — that much more satisfying.
But then: what if Dad made the whole thing up? What if he’d just wanted a night off from his bad kids, and a steak dinner, and a clean house to come home to? Because Rex Chilton is a name for a bong.
Anyway, that’s what the scene this page is from is about, kind of.
A moment of gratitude
But first, how we got here:
I printed up ~50 copies of Redfern #1. It contains previously-unseen bonus material, like the page below.
I mailed some to friends and fam.
I sold the rest at Staple! Independent Media Expo.
IIRC, Mike had COVID that weekend. Or at least that’s what he told me!
I then decided to not print a Redfern #2, opting instead to produce a full-length graphic novel, the ongoing development of which is chronicled here.
As a result, I don’t think Mike Yohe ever got to see his Free Wifi letter in print. Here it is:
Thank you, Mike! Not just for your letter, but for your kindness, and your steadfast support in all my harebrained endeavors. You’re a genius and a madman.
Thank you also for reminding me to take a moment — in a moment like this one — to be grateful for things like this, and for people like you.
And for all of you, too.
I think this blogletter is an intimate enough affair that I can say without any parasocial treacle that we’ll get through this, or we won’t, together.
Submit your comments below, or to PO Box 10146 Austin, TX 78766, or to freewifi[at]coinlaundrycomics[dot]com. Many ways to connect!
An update from K.I.D.S.
Greetings once again from my cute-ass life.
I made a little story about Moon as a special agent of K.I.D.S. in Monterey, and meeting the sea lions. I put it together as a presentation so I could read it to Moon’s first grade class. If you click the image above, it should take you to the whole thing.
See? That’s what you do: you put the call to action at the tail end of the second graph.
It’s one color, because I had to put it together quick, and it’s blue, because Moon’s favorite color is blue.
Early in the story this security guard kid who Moon named Andy won’t let us proceed until we have the appropriate security clearance. So we handed out these badges to the class. They’re kind of crudely finished because I printed, laminated, and cut ‘em all out at FedEx Kinko’s 13 minutes before I was supposed to be at the school.
Cuttin’ it close!
It was the best time I’d had in years. Moon was beaming. The kids all yelled “arp! arp! arp!” when it showed up on the screen. The laugh moments hit — they all loved it when Moon climbs on top of the sportscar to investigate the sound of its alarm. (There’s an accompanying spoken component to the story, where I narrate it, kind of, but I just made that part up when I got there.)
What else?
I got to design a series of posters for Hyperreal Film Club’s short film showcase, submissions for which are now open. I personally know half a dozen readers of this blogletter who shoot short films. Maybe you’re interested!
This is a picture of Kathryn Bigelow, who made Strange Days in between Point Break and The Hurt Locker. Has any one director had a more direct impact on elder millennials’ ideas about of masculinity?
Fincher, maybe, but unintentionally, and in the wrong direction.
There are 3 more in the series, but they haven’t been posted on the Hyperreal account yet.
TTFN
Bo
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