The Art of Rube Goldberg-- Outtakes and an Interview!

Paul Tumey sends us some inside info and a link for the upcoming book, The Art of Rube Goldberg:

Paul writes: "Here's an 'outtake' from the book -- a 1917 rare color Puck page from a set of three Rube did for Puck magazine. The other two are published in the book."

I'd suggest clicking on the image and then enlarging it due to my space limitations here. 

Paul writes: "Here's something else that wasn't included in The Art of Rube Goldberg due to space considerations, a newspaper column written by Rube. Many people don't know this, but Rube published thousands of newspaper columns and articles, engaging in a dual career as both a cartoonist and a writer."

Here's a link to an interview with Charles Kochman, Editorial Director of Abrams ComicArts, about the book.

Thanks Paul! Can't wait to see the book!

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Buster

Morty Comix # 2649

Morty Comix # 2649 was left under a welcome mat for a tea joint in Portland, Oregon, making me wonder if I should change the name to "More Tea" Comix.

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Dusk in McCleary

Favorite Movie Quotes: Two Rode Together

"These people, they smile at me and show their teeth, but it's the eyes that bite."

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McCleary, Washington

Breaking News! Abbott Mural in McCleary is Gone! Demon Child Defeated!

Just today I see the huge James Abbott mural in McCleary at Gordon's Grocery is no more! The Demon Child has been obliterated!

The Zombies Sing Bacharach

The Look of Love

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Black walnut leaves at sunrise

Postcard - Moscow, Idaho

"Since 1889, this progressive university has gained national distinction by stressing quality in its teaching, research, and service. The campus, inspirationally beautiful with its many ivy covered buildings and tree lined paths covers more than 1200 acres. The 18,000 seat Kibbie Dome is at upper left. Over 8,000 students are enrolled in 8 major colleges and a graduate school."

ca. 1980

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A cigar for breakfast at sunup in my backyard under the mossy elms

Heaven

Morty Comix # 2648

OK, now it is going to get weird. Here's the deal. The even-numbered issues in the range of Morty Comix # 2648-2666 were drawn on white paper and sent to Buzz Buzzizyk in Butler, PA. Buzz himself supplied the paper, already cut and folded, and challenged me to get off my butt and draw some more. Buzz has permission to enhance them and distribute them as he sees fit. So you can probably expect to get some updates on what happens to these little guys as time passes.

[Update: Installed on a fridge in Bloomfield neighborhood, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Posted on Buzzizyk 9/17/13]

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James Abbott mural deterioration detail

McCleary, Washington

Paul Tumey, "Wotta Rube!"

 Paul Tumey with original art by Rube Goldberg

 Paul holds a copy of The Art of Rube Goldberg

Paul in Abrams NYC office working on the book with Goldberg's granddaughter, Jennifer George, and fellow book contributor Carl Linich.

Paul Tumey sends news and photos telling us about the new book The Art of Rube Goldberg, to be released by Abrams in mid-November. Amazon has the ordering information.

Paul is one of a half dozen essayists in this book. For those of you who don't know, Mr. Tumey maintains an excellent website devoted to the art of screwball cartoonists, with Rube Goldberg being the chief screwball.

 

I had the pleasure of meeting Paul in person when he braved the wilds and along with some other screwballs attended the McCleary Mini-Comics Day a couple years ago. Here's part of the group pictured in Elma, where we ate dinner: taken by filmmaker (Bezango, WA) Ron Austin with Jim's camera: L to R: Jim Gill, Morty the Dog, Paul and Reid Tumey, Frank Young.

 

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Oddly, the least weather-damaged panel in this James Abbott mural in McCleary is the one that includes the DEMON CHILD surrounded by adults who look resigned to an eternity of terror with the little guy.

The Ulysses S. Grant Song

My great great grandfather

Rode with Custer

In the Civil War

He was a Wolverine.

Cold Harbor, Wilderness

He was there at Appamattox

When the Rebs called out "No more!"

His name was Frank

Calvary private was his rank

And he never minced his words

Just to suit yer

He lived to 1916

And told everyone he could

That he considered Grant

"A Drunken Butcher."

 

 

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More environmental damage to an aging James Abbott mural. Unfortunately, this particular image faces west, the direction from where the Pacific Ocean weather hits us hardest here in McCleary.

I am sure the cost of restoring an Abbott mural would be prohibitive. Since the murals of James Abbott are all over eastern Grays Harbor County, many business owners around here are going to be forced into making a hard choice about these pieces. A few of them already have, pro and con.

Superb landscape work on this mural panel. Typically, Abbott's backgrounds display more artistry than his foregrounds. But the more I document the existing work of Mr. Abbott the more I am impressed by his prolific and creative drive.

A Morty Comix Twisted Conundrum

OK, so you and I are having lunch in sort of a weird new restaurant that includes a guy in a clown suit who entertains the customers by playing seriously romantic tunes on a violin as he roams the dining room floor. He doesn't smile even though his makeup indicates that he is supposed to be happy happy. Somehow the strange combination is meant to be ironic, but it just doesn't work.

We go to eat there for the first time mainly to watch this failed attempt at being hip, which we heard about from friends. We order and as we wait for our meals the clown plays "Let's Face the Music and Dance."

But then you notice that my eyes and the clowns eyes lock. You hear me utter, "Oh crap!" I turn pale, shove the table back as I pull out and run. You never knew my aging, portly out-of-shape self could move so fast. I'm out the door.

The clown yells, "Willis! Stop!" And from out his absurdly puffy costume he produces a sophisticated looking firearm. He bolts out the door in pursuit, pistol held high over his head. His comic oversize shoes prevent him from running too fast.

For about 15 seconds not a sound is heard in this eating establishment, but then the slow murmurs start and build to a sound like that of an air hose in action with nothing to fill, and you realize all eyes are on you.

About five minutes later the clown returns, empty handed. His fake nose, fake ears, hat, and wig have all fallen off. Streaks of sweat are traced on his facial greasepaint. He looks like our worst hideous nightmares of what clowns can be. He is panting, and pissed off.

The clown resets the chair I tipped over, plops down in it, crosses his arms with his elbows on the table, leans close and stares at you. In the distance you hear sirens. He presents you with some sort of official looking credentials and badge, representing some kind of national security agency you've never heard of with an acronym like the NSGV or something like that.

Then he reaches in his clown pocket, pulls out about a half dozen Morty Comix, and carefully arranges them on the table so you can see each one. "We intercepted these in odd places, like in gas stations, cafe menus, dead phone booths, you know, the usual place lowlife scum spies pass coded messages. Which is, in fact, what these are."

Meanwhile, the local police arrive and they appear normal except they are all wearing styrofoam Abraham Lincoln stovepipe hats. They see the clown and become very agitated and hesitant. None of them come close to him, but instead the one who seems to be in charge whispers into a radio communication device. Before you know it a man who looks exactly like Richard Nixon, dressed in an old-fashioned gangster pinstripe suit, complete with fedora, walks in the room and says to the clown in a commanding voice, "I'll have those Morty Comix now, Mister."

The clown starts to reach for his gun, but before he even touches it he is surrounded by officers who quickly draw their weapons and in an unified precision aim right at his heart. So he slowly rises and calmly announces, "You win. Let Hercules himself do what he may. The cat will mew and dog will have his day." 

There is always a bigger fish.

The styrofoam hat law enforcement officers allow the clown the leave quietly, but seconds later another set of sirens are heard in the distance, coming closer. The uniformed guys look at each other and the Nixon guy says, "Jeez, it's the REAL cops!" and they all run away, forgetting the original purpose of their mission.

So you are left sitting at a table with six Morty Comix and the sirens are getting closer. You have about 2 or 3 minutes to either cut and run or stay and deal with the authorities. What would you do, and what happens to the comix? 










 

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James Abbott mural in rough shape

McCleary, Washington

Postcard - Moscow, Idaho

"The sign sets the theme for downtown Moscow, now that the through traffic has been diverted one block east and west. New curbs, traffic controls, and some parallel parking have all added to the shopping ease. Incorporated in 1877, Moscow soon became County Seat of Latah County and home of the University of Idaho in 1889."

Early 1980s.

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The Demon Child has always been around. Here's a shot of him found in an episode of Boston Blackie from the early 1950s.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Voyager 1 Has left the Building!

Voyager 1 has recently made history as it has apparently left the solar system and is now hurtling through interstellar space.

Go, man, go! This is a landmark event.

It blows my mind to consider that in such a short time, within the lifetimes of many of us, space technology went from no human-made satellites at all (until Sputnik in 1957) to this.



 

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Satsop, Washington