Here is my JACK BLACK SONG

Today, the great web zine This Zine Will Change Your Life debuted my new tune, Jack Black Song.
I did a comic for the zine too, click here to hear JACK BLACK SONG and read the comic.

This version of Jack Black Song was produced and arranged by my friend Bill Stair, one of the guys I play with on Thursday nights in Oaxaca. Bill has worked professionally as a bass player and recording engineer -- this guy has actually stood on stage at the legendary CBGB's in New York and laid down the law in thundering tones with his bass guitar. Many thanks go to Bill for making me sound competent!

Thanks also to publisher Ben Tanzer for including me in TZWCYL, a maverick literary zine that I'm very proud to appear in.

New Waldorf Inspired School in Oaxaca

My wife Serena and I are on to a new adventure (as usual!). We are part of a group that is opening a Waldorf inspired school here in Oaxaca, starting in late August. Serena has posted a description of the school and curriculum on her blog, Have You Seen the Dog Lately.

We are looking to give our kids a crack at a fine education, without a lot of the toxic programming inherent in traditional models.

El Vocho is Here

Finally, my new graphic novel El Vocho is available! You can order it from my lulu page via this link for $12.00 + postage.

It is not in stores yet, but I'll be hawking it on my summer tour, and Top Shelf Productions (publisher of my BugHouse trilogy of graphic novels) will have it available at their booth at comic conventions this summer.

I'm developing the whole publishing picture for this book on a DIY/grass roots basis, working with my contacts in the indy/alt comics world, and will be posting details as I put them together.

Improved Ballad of the Bug & west coast tour dates

I've been working with producer/arranger Bill Stair and we put together a tight, bright version of Ballad of the Bug. This is the theme song for my upcoming graphic novel El Vocho, written by myself and my pal Todd Spiehler.

Have a listen:



(My music posting program considers the file a video, thus the big blank box.)

I've confirmed publishing events for my graphic novel El Vocho as follows:

Reading Frenzy, Portland Oregon, July 15th (time TBA)

Mercury Cafe, San Francisco, July 22nd, 7:30 p.m.

I'll have copies of El Vocho for sale, and will be rocking with my guitar on both occasions. David Perkin will play percussion in Portland, and I'll be joined on bass by Scotty Hoover in San Francisco, along with a drummer and lead guitarist.

I think my four year old just woke up!!! Better post now...

Don't Forget About Lou

After all, he is Lou.

Here's a killer video of Sister Ray, with Robert Quine on guitar.



Lou Reed, New York, 1989.
This is an insanely great record. I like Dirty Boulevard, Busload of Faith, Straw Man and Romeo Had Juliet.

The Cooperative Model

We human beings can do better. It is high time we release ourselves from the violence and ecological disaster of human history.
I propose an end to hierarchical, top down structural models. Yup, the stuff found at your job, government, school and other institutions we encounter in daily life. We need to share responsibility, with its burdens and rewards, in cooperative structures. Whenever and wherever power is concentrated in few hands, the natural outgrowth is greed and abuse.
Condescending, patronizing elites may argue that the masses can't shoulder responsibility. This argument underlines their fear of losing power and control.
It's noteworthy that Dutch and English settlers in the Northeast (of what is now the United States) marveled at the egalitarian cultures of the Iroquois and Algonquin Indian federations. It's generally acknowledged that the new country was influenced by their democratic models (native American societies in other areas were top down hierarchical).
In industrial and post industrial modern times, we have no functional large scale cooperative nation state models. With the Soviet Union, Lenin imposed a dictatorship out of a war situation, and Stalin took it to insane heights as history's bloodiest dictator. Not cooperative! Nor communist, really.
I am not a Marxist, but I have been a member of four successful co-ops, each of which delivered equal benefits to all members, while exacting labor or fees from them.
Co-ops are beautifully self regulating, like water finding its own level. If the members lose interest, they ultimately collapse like the Amherst Food Co-op I was once part of. No problem, it served its members well during its tenure. Another, Warehouse Artist Studios in Eugene, Oregon, provided great, inexpensive studio space to a dozen artists for several years, even surviving a manager/member who was embezzling funds!
Hierarchical, top down structures are outmoded, serving only the polities (okay, the swindlers, megalomaniacs and thieves) at the top.

Some other time I have to address the problem of power structures that use force and violence to gain and maintain power. That is a huge mess that dovetails with my subject here, but will need to be tackled separately.
I've been thinking like this for a long time. That is why I've taken part in several co-ops. They are messy, but I'm willing to take the risk and do the work to develop the co-op model.

The Ballad of the Bug

Here is Ballad of the Bug, pretty much the theme song for my new graphic novel, El Vocho. I wrote the lyric and the music was composed by Todd Spiehler.



This summer I'll be in the states promoting El Vocho and performing my tunes. I'm setting up dates now, so far I'm confirmed at the Mercury Cafe in San Francisco for 7:30 p.m., Thursday July 22. It will be a fun night as I'll be joined by my old friend Scott Hoover on bass, and we'll be playing with two guitars, bass and drums.

You might ask, why is this here cartoon dude gettin' into guitar slinging?

It started when I moved to Oaxaca in southern Mexico close to three years ago with my wife and two kids, looking to enjoy this cultured city, and an easier pace of life.

Before long, I met the aforementioned Todd Spiehler, a great guy who extended an invitation to jam on Thursdays with a loose confederation of musicians known as the Bodega Boys.

Not only do the Bodega Boys have a heck of a lot of fun playing musical styles from country blues and bluegrass to rock & roll, but they embrace the Oaxacan tradition of enjoying fine mezcal, the local spirit distilled from the maguey cactus. This is smokey, smooth stuff with a real mystique -- the best mezcal is made at country stills in the villages and valleys of Oaxaca state.

Did I mention that the Thursday night host of the Bodega Boys, Tony Raab, is a master distiller who crafts the best Mezcal this side of Monte Alban about 60 meters from the Bodega where we jam? You get the picture, we never fail to have a good time when we tune up and howl out a few tunes.

I really caught the fever for playing live music, I've pretty much gone Oaxacabilly. So, as I've worked on my El Vocho book these last couple years, I simultaneously penned a stack of tunes. I've been beating them into performable shape (I hope) and I'm gonna put myself on the line with them when I hit the states this summer. Maybe I'll see you then.



You never know who is gonna turn up at the Bodega! I'm jammin' here with Kim Berly of the Stampeders, premier Canadian rockers, and on stand up bass is John Harlin, noted expert mountaineer. Photo by Tania Roman

Ripe Pineapple Drunk

Here's a rough version of Ripe Pineapple Drunk, a song I wrote about Corn, Biodiversity and the Monsanto Corporation. And about being a hippy and a punk.



I'm gonna polish up my tunes and get around the states this summer, caterwauling with my guitar and promoting my new book El Vocho. Also gonna get some decent recordings done.

I've been fumblin' around like a Caveman trying to figure out how to embed my tunes in this here blog. I done got sore thumbs bangin' away at Google, messing with code. Me sorta dumb about this stuff, and I could not get a handle on it.
So I went beggin' to Nate Beaty, world class cartoonist and webster supreme. It took Nate like 5 seconds to generate the info I needed (try DivShare). Hey Nate, I owe you a Mezcal. Or an ice cream cone, or something as good as your advice! Thanks!

A New Chapter in My Life as A Teenage Werewolf

Since I moved to Oaxaca almost 3 years ago, I've sort of been drafted into The Bodega Boys, a local "Oaxacabilly" band. Inspired by the thrill & fun of playing live music, I've penned a number of my own tunes and I'm gonna be performing in the U.S. this summer as I tour in support of my upcoming graphic novel, El Vocho.
I've begun experimenting with recording and I'm looking to issue an Ipad version of the book which will include the songs in it. That being the case, I'm trying to figure out how the hell to post music on the web in some functional way that is relatively easy for me, and accessible to anyone foolish enough to listen to my caterwauling.
So here it is, a link to my page over at lastFM. This is just a little trial to see how it all works.
Truth is, I'm gonna get myself in a decent recording studio and get down some reasonably tight, well recorded versions of my tunes before going much farther with posting music, but ya gotta start somewhere and assess how to proceed, so there it is!
There are two songs on the page, a cover of the traditional tune John Hardy, and my homage to the Cramps, You Got That Hair.
They are set up for free download.



You Got That Hair!

Email is Dead

For awhile I've suspected that I'm an anachronism -- that is to say, I like email and it's my primary mode of personal and business communication.

Serena has been telling me for awhile that people don't email anymore, they just send Facebook messages. Easier, lower stakes/commitment. Breezy.

And of course, half the world are already cyborgs, with a blackberry or iphone all but grafted onto their face. Yes, I'm one of those Luddites who expects people to have a conversation with me when they are having a conversation with me, as opposed to compulsively staring at and molesting their electronic brain/external digital Id. I know, I'm a 53 year old guy, my thumbs don't text, not yet anyway.

Still, I earnestly sit and compose emails. I carefully consider my spelling, meaning and grammar, and indeed I edit before pressing send. Well, most of the time, anyway.

Meanwhile, I'm experiencing a sort of diminishing return on my (hopefully) pithy and eloquent efforts. People are not emailing me back! And I'm not even asking for money! Taking the digital pulse of communication, I can only come to one conclusion: Email is dead!

The Nature of Time

OR, Here We Are, Fine With Me (loudly, in a mildly threatening yet happy voice).

{CLICK ON PAGES TO SEE THEM LARGER}





Pretty much my whole life, I've questioned the nature of time, as we all do to some degree. This little comix vignette illustrates some of my ideas on the subject.
The preceding three pages of comics are from a digest sized comic, CAT SUIT, which I put out three years ago. The story also appears in my graphic novela TRANNY that I published two years back.

Meanwhile, I've been wading through Daniel Pinchbecks heroic tome 2012: The Return of Quetzacoatl. Mr. Pinchbeck strongly puts forth the idea that the evolution of human beings depends on us developing a different idea of time, a different relationship with time. Couldn't agree more on that point.

Further he suggests that key to advancing is the adaptation of a new calendar based on cycles from days and seasons to the turning of the planets, solar system and galaxy. Fair enough, but some of the ideas in the book do not resonate with me, on the other hand.

Pinchbeck shares ideas and roles, to some degree, with the late Terence McKenna, but they are very different guys. Each has bonafides as a psychedelic guru, and the levity to admit that their pet theories might simply prove they are quite mad, but for my money McKenna does it with a charm and humor that's hard to beat.

For my own part, I too gotta cop to arriving at piercing ideas about the nature of time and reality while communing with 'shrooms. Part of my conclusion, along with the actual ideas about the nature of time, has been that I was in for a big change in the nature of the human experience during my lifetime. By the late 70s/early 80s I would rant about this to friends who would grant me an ear.

I've taken on the task of communicating these ideas in my comics, interspersed with a range of characters, narrative and poop jokes. Like McKenna and Pinchbeck, I've always felt like a conscript in the army of transcendental truth and change. Like Ken Kesey said, "Ya can't quit da mob".

For me, the original insights and messages came in a flash, when I was a freshman at UMASS Amherst on April 10, 1976, but that is whole other story.

And just for the record, I don't have to admit to the possibility that I'm quite mad. I mean, c'mon, I a cartoonist!

Monsters on Guitars: New T-Shirts

What could be more fun than painting your favorite monsters shredding on some cool guitars?
Putting them on T-Shirts, natch!
I just put up these two T-Shirt designs on my Cafe Press storefront, so you all can get some styling Ts for the warm weather.

Illustration Portfolio, updated.

Been dabbling in Illustration a bit lately, looking to do more.
Here's the latest version of my online portfolio.

Above, milkbug on a skateboard for Sarah's Science. Am I crazy to think that this drawing is informed by my child hood delight in the art of Jack Kirby?

Start that T-Shirt Business This Afternoon

A guy named Russell just wrote for advice on starting a T-Shirt biz. Here's my reply. I hope it helps!

Hi Russell,

Sounds like you have some great ideas and could really make a go of a t-shirt biz.
If I was starting as you are, perhaps I'd get into screen printing, setting up a shirt shop, and creating a focused marketing program, pushing Tshirt printing to a targeted group of markets in your area -- restaurants, schools, service businesses, retailers, government and university/college markets. Try google adwords and monthly postcard mailings to a list of 1000 or more. Network and hand out your card, talking up your biz, etc.

The inkjet transfer is a winning idea. Get one of those Epson printiers that can handle an 11 x 17 sheet.

Embroidery is a lucrative market. At first, it would be better to send the embroidery jobs out to a shop in your area, or maybe one that sells on the web. You can take a good markup, I've done a lot of outsourcing embroidery.
Maybe get a machine later as you add staff.

Good luck -- if you want to succeed, and are willing to put everything you have on the line, from smarts, guts, determination, ingenuity and capital, you will.

STEVE

Hey, I finished a graphic novel today.

El Vocho is done, and it's posted here, on it's own blog.
I just posted the last page, seen here. Click on the art to see it bigger.
IT's also started running at CO2 in a more visually pleasing format.

I'm gonna do some edits on the book and begin the whole marketing & publishing process over the next few months.

The book won't be out for awhile, but you can visit my web store if you'd like to check out the El Vocho T-Shirt.

STEVE

J.R. Williams is Dog... I mean God!

Anybody who loves comic art and painting, do yourself a favor and check out the work of the brilliant & wholly unique J.R. Williams.

Over the last 25 years, J.R. has been one of the funniest guys in alt comix, and now he's painting up a storm. Well worth a peek.

Build Your Own T-Shirt Press

The first diagram shows how to cut a shirt board/print area into a four foot square piece of plywood. The second diagram shows how to add screen clamps and finish your press. Note that the shirt board area needs rounded corners. Sand it smooth too! Cover the shirt board area with a smooth piece of masonite or pressed board, fasten it to the shirt board with brad nails by the edges, and wood glue.



Here are plans for a 3 color table top T-Shirt press. This is a simple design that can be build for under $200 in materials. It's no substitute for a good rotary press, but it works and it's cheap, a great DIY machine. I've build and used these to print three colors in perfect register.
This press is cut from a 4' x 4' piece of 3/4" plywood. Basically, you cut out the shirt board/print area with a jig saw, screw three sets of screen clamps around the print area, and mount it on sawhorses.
This is a good machine for Punk rock DIY printing, for anyone starting out, for the hobbyist, etc.
IF you have questions about how to build this or how it works, send a comment and I will answer.
Click on the images to see them enlarged.
If you are a graphics person but are unemployed, you can sell screen printing services for up to three colors and print on this machine. It's a great shoe string start up business.
If you do decide to buy a used rotary manual T-shirt press, you'll probably spend more like $1,000. Be sure to actually try any press before buying, to make sure it still prints true and is not completely worn out.

HYPE TIME! It's T-Shirt Season Again

As March approaches, once again I remember -- I'm a screen printer! Yup, I'm still in the T-Shirt business.
The economy is pretty slow, but Manx Media Custom Screen Printing is still whipping out shirts at a semi furious rate. I'm running the office, handling sales, marketing, and graphics, and my long time press operator David Perkin is in the St. Johns neighborhood of Portland, Oregon handling production. David works on the six color manual Workhorse press, a quality machine capable of perfect registration.
Our main clients are Haight Ashbury T-Shirts, where we print thousands of shirts each year for designer David Boyer, whose classic retro hippy designs are the top sellers at the store, and Sarah's Science, the great kids science educator and proprietor of fantastic summer science camps for kids in Oakland and Berkeley. Sarah's summer camp is called This Land is Your Land, and we have adorned many thousands of T-shirts and hoodies with her banana slug mascot.
Other clients we have served include Sony Music Distribution, Margaret Cho, The Residents, Apple Computer, and many schools, clubs, bands, cartoonists and more.
We can handle jobs 1 - 6 color, on any type of t-shirt, hoodie, or sportswear item, and we do runs from 50 pieces and up.
We have plenty of production capability left over for new clients, so email me for a quote, or call me at 503-213-3671.
Happy T-Shirts!
Steve Lafler

Bughouse Makes the Top 100

Bughouse ranked #22 -- top 100 comics of the decade.




Rob Clough, writing for the Comics Journal, ranked my graphic novel Bughouse at #22 in his list of the top 100 comics/graphic novels of the decade.
Well hell, what an honor. Thanks Rob!
Click here to read the list.
Here is the cool thing, it's on sale cheap at Daedalus, click here to buy it.

How to Start a Custom Embroidery Business

How to Start a T-Shirt Embroidery Business

Overview
The market for custom embroidered T-shirts and sportswear is strong. According to Impressions, the decorated apparel industry trade magazine, the industry is recession-resilient. With a commercial embroidery machine and a strong marketing plan, you can start a successful embroidered T-shirt business. You can fill custom orders, and also create your own line of designs.
Step 1
Purchase an embroidery machine. Choose from leading brands such as Tajima or Barudan, known for their reliability. Attend an industry trade show to see the variety of machines offered and to try them. Check on the ISS trade show nearest you (see Resources for a link). Decide whether to buy a single head machine, or one with multiple sewing heads.
Step 2
Set up your shop in a garage, spare room or small commercial space, with an eye towards keeping overhead low. File a business name at your county courthouse and open a business checking account. Consider purchasing liability insurance for your business. Practice with your embroidery machine, loading it with digitized designs, placing T-shirts in the clamp, loading thread and sewing.
Step 3
Create a price list for your embroidered T-shirt services, and include sweatshirt, sportshirts, caps and the range of imprinted sportswear. Components of pricing are cost of blank shirt, 50% markup on the blank shirt, and embroidery charge. A run of 100 T-shirts with a small design could be billed at two to three dollars per shirt for the embroidery charge.
Step 4
Target your market for custom embroidery services, for example restaurants or schools. Compile a list of potential customers for embroidered T-shirts. Contact potential customers via phone and personal visit. Market your services with postcard mailings, blogs, a website, order forms, and business cards. Craft a simple message with a call to action: "Custom Embroidered T-Shirts, top quality at great rates, call now for a quote."
Step 5
Write a detailed work order when a client places an order, have the client sign it and pay half the fee up front. Produce a sample for the client to OK prior to production. Upon sample approval, produce the job. Collect the balance of the fee from the client when they pick up the job. Extend payment terms such as "net due in 30 days" to trustworthy clients.

Have a look at Impressions, the trade magazine for the imprinted sportswear industry. This is a link to their embroidery page.

This article was written for an online client who rejected it. I admit I'm not an embrloidery technician (I'm a screen printer), but I have sold and produced at least $25,000 worth of embroidered hats and shirts in my career.

A Visit to Huautla De Jimenez

My visiting father in law expressed interest in visiting Huautla de Jiminez, the remote mountain town in the northeast corner of Oaxaca famed for it's magic mushrooms. I've been living in Oaxaca for 2.5 years, and of course I'm well aware of Huautla and it's sacred mushroom rituals. I have been in no rush to get there and gobble down magic fungus, as I approach them with respect and a wee bit of caution these days. Past experience with them has generally been wonderful. I consider that the 'shrooms themselves have a sense of humor and important information for human beings. This being the case, I figured I'd get to Huautla when the time was right, no rush. David inquired as to whether we might visit Huautla, and my wife Serena offered to keep the home fires burning with the kids, so the adventure was set.

Early last Saturday morning we set out in the Toyota RAV4, headed north on the Cuota, the super highway toll road towards Mexico City. After about a couple hours, we exited and headed back south a few miles on local roads to a town called Teotitlan before turning east towards an imposing range of near mountains, climbing steeply from the valley floor.

I gulped when I saw these hills, as I noticed the ribbon/shelf of a roadway winding precariously up to the ridge. Yup, guess where we are headed! It was vertigo inspiring to say the least driving up out of the valley, but rewarding—once at the top, in the space of twenty meters, we traversed the ridge and were greeted with a splendid vista, ridge after ridge of rugged green hills bumping across the landscape to the east.

In the city of Oaxaca, we are at the start of the dry season; things are getting brown and dusty pretty quick. But after cresting the ridge out of the dry valley last Saturday, we were clearly in a more temperate zone. When I saw all the verdant mountains, I was hopeful that we might score some fresh mushrooms, even though we were going in the off season.

David and I chatted and listened to some Bluegrass as we negotiated more than an hour of tight curves up against sheer drops. We spied a verdant valley below spotted with houses around a small village, watched over by undulating peaks, some of which were planted, while the sides of some of the hills were terraced with farms.
At long last we rounded a bend and came into sight of Huautla de Jimenez, a sizeable town that looks like it was spilled out of a giant bucket down the side of a mountain, dripping into the valley below. Huatla itself is on the north side of a great bowl formed by a loosely connected ring of mountains, facing south and covered with green, a moist wonderland.

The town itself seemed to have been designed by a Mexican Dr. Seuss, narrow switchback streets bounding up hills, clogged with people, cars, market stalls and stores. We hoped to find one Ines Cortes, a curandera who is famous for conducting a sort of folk Catholic healing ceremony utilizing psychedelic mushrooms.

After a surreal few moments of asking directions, driving up and down impossible narrow, insanely steep streets, and being forced to back down at least one, we found the house that Ines and her husband live in. David exclaimed in wonder at my ability to drive under these conditions, and the amazing feat we performed by finding Ines in this rabbit warren of a town on a hillside. Me, I've learned that if you are just a bit patient in Mexico, everything happens in due course.

Ines' husband invited us in, the door was ajar and he was peeking out as if he was waiting for us. They rolled out the welcome mat with an easy grace. We discussed the prospects for a ceremony that day, only to find that no fresh mushrooms were available, as it was the off season. Ines offered us the opportunity to do the ritual with dried 'shrooms, but warned that we would not experience visions. We were game to give it a try.

The ceremony was set to begin that evening at 10 p.m., so David and I poked around Huautla and then took a siesta at Ines' house. We rested in the cozy ground floor room where the ritual would be held. Ines has a gorgeous improvised altar at one end of the room, festooned with every Mexican chotchke you could possibly imaging, with pictures of various versions of Christ, the saints, the virgin, and other mythical images and photos of people.

Ines and her husband had left David and I alone to their house while they tended to business, so after we awoke from our fiesta, we sat in the cozy room, with it's earthen floor, and chatted about anything and everything. There was a dull light and a candle burning as we talked, but suddenly the light went out. It seemed an auspicious moment, seeing that we were about to knock on the door of the unknown. Minutes later the candle burned out and we were left in near total darkness. We chatted more and noted that the whole adventure, the drive through amazing emerald territory and the plunge into darkness all seemed very surreal and psychedelic.

I took a walk to the roof, up on the third floor, to use the bathroom there. It was twilight and the fading green of the valley was subtle and stunning just the same. A half moon smiled from straight above and cast a shadow at my feet. Jupiter, Venus and Mars blinked from their corners of the sky and I watched in delight as twilight waned and the stars poked their heads out one by one. I felt relaxed, happy and ready for the ceremony.

Inis and her guy came back and jokingly asked what happened to the lights. David and I both wondered if they had turned them out on us for fun, a little test. They got the lights back on and Ines made ready to begin. She gathered a quantity of herbs and set them on her splendid altar, then lit an incense burner that was filled with copal.

She began praying and chanting in both Spanish and Mazateca, the local indigenous tongue. She blessed both of us by name and brushed us with herbal leaves.
The preliminary invocation done, she handed each of us a little bowl brimming with dried mushrooms and poured a small amount of water from our personal bottles over each, instructing us to eat them. I looked at the 'shrooms and thought, “Shit I'm in trouble, this is the biggest pile of 'shrooms I've ever seen!”. It reminded me of the time in Summer '79 when I finished the thick remains of a mushroom milkshake that I'd split with friends. My eagerness that day saw me on the up escalator a mere 15 minutes from ingestion, traveling too fast to the outer limits. David mumbled similar sentiments about the quantity, and I said, dude we just gotta go with it, trust Ines.

We ate 'em up, and they tasted pretty bad. I really wish she did not put the water on them, it sort of made them f-r-e-a-k-y nasty, I woulda done better if they were just dry!

Regardless, we got them down in good order and settled in to wait for the boost, the beckoning to almost literal other worlds, and the A-HA moment provided by mushrooms: “Oh yes, now I finally see, this is how it REALLY IS!!!!!!!!!!!! I always knew it, I just forgot! The knowledge of the ages under my big dumb nose the whole time, and I never noticed! Etc., etc.”

I could go on about time and simultaneity, and other matters the mushrooms have whispered cosmic joke about into my psyche, in the past, but I'll wait on it, that's for some future post.

Ines continued to chant, and gave way to improvised blessings, songs, and banter. To say she made us feel welcome and at ease is a huge understatement. Here is a women who well knows what the mushrooms reveal, and she offers them in the spirit of healing, calling them “little saints”.
David and I were content and affable as we waited, chatting and feeling profoundly relaxed.

At one moment in Ines' song, I felt a wiggle in my gut and stood up, approached the altar and stretched out my tall frame, reaching for the roof. A quick shimmer worked from my center to my top—I was knocking on the door to “the other”, ready to tumble in. But the inner light dimmed, and I lay back down to relax.

Ines reminded us again what she had said that afternoon, that we can't expect visions from dried mushrooms. I freely admit that David and I both hoped to trip out anyway, but alas it was not to be. Still, we went to sleep content, open and relaxed, having had a most interesting day and evening.

The following morning, our hosts served us a flavorful breakfast of local coffee and eggs with a mountain root vegetable folded into them, and hot tortillas.
We headed back to the city of Oaxaca perhaps slightly disappointed at not finding the fresh mushrooms, but I can guarantee you I will visit Ines again in the rainy season!

Food on the Road

Tuesday night. First day's drive over, somewhere in New Jersey. With the wind chill, it's bloody zero degrees out. I'm pumped to be setting out on my road trip to Oaxaca, but on my plate is -- nothing! So the task is to put something on my plate. The old boy's gotta take on some nourishment.

I leave my warm, slightly downmarket fifty nine dollar hotel room and hit the all American strip mall strip to see what might be the least offensive meal I can find.

I end up, of all places, at the local Applebee's. It's sort of a sports bar on steroids inside. The cute little Jersey gal who seats me has the most elaborate combo of mascara and eyeliner I've ever witnessed. She's overtly overly friendly, as per the Applebee's training videos, no doubt, but I just want to say, "How the hell did you get all that stuff on your eyelids?!". She shows me to a tiny high table with a tiny high stool, bares her teeth one last time and sprints away, spouting salutations as she goes.

Now I'm confronted with a high tech panorama of sports programming on six or seven enormous flat screen TV sets. A quick scan of my tiny round table turns up some sort of small digital box, giving me the ability to turn up the volume on the TV of my choice (each is tuned to a different station, of course). Football, basketball, ESPN, more ESPN, CNN, FOX "news", and more. I'm a bit tired from the road, trying to grok this new digital wrinkle, when my waitress arrives and begins pitching her script at me.

She is by degrees more earthy, warm and genuine than the amazing eyeliner/mascara hostess girl, in fact she's a sort of robust Amy Winehouse (only sober). My new best friend, she runs a dizzying sales pitch by me to drink and eat enough to stagger an adult rhino, and get it pretty drunk too. I plead with her for a few minutes to look the menu over.

Everything on the menu is bigger than my head. By a lot. I'm hungry, but fuck I'm only one guy! Allow me to insert a little aside here. I've been living in the city of Oaxaca, Mexico for a bit over two years. I might be biased, but I believe Oaxaca has the best food in Mexico. The plates are meticulously put together -- a lot of thought goes into creating the right combo of foods on your plate, complimentary items that enhance each other. They are beautifully served in portions that are filling but not overwhelming. The cost is such that you can always order more if you need to.

For example, take La Biznaga, a Oaxacan/fusion restaurant in central Oaxaca, about a half mile north of the zocalo (the town square). I like to order a salad that includes red leaf lettuce, a garnish of fresh seasonal veggies, and some grilled salmon. It's delicious and filling, but not overwhelming. Sometimes it's enough. If not, I can always order a Sopa Azteca to go with it, a tomato based tortilla soup with avocado in it that is truly delicious. It has a strong flavor of tomato and peppers, but still there are a bevy of delicate flavors competing for my attention. I'm no professional food writer, I'd be lost trying to identify the complicated flavors of the Sopa Azteca at La Biznaga. Every sip of the hearty soup is pleasing to the depths of my soul, no lie!

Back to Applebee's in New Jersey. Now, I know it's not fair to compare a chain restaurant/sports bar in the U.S. to a hipster, slightly upscale restaurant in Oaxaca. But I can't help it. I'm already doing it! Let us continue.

Amy Winehouse's sober sister comes back to take my order. I inquire, "Can I get this here spinach/shrimp salad without the bacon?" Her look says it all. She's thinking "Dude, with your skinny ass, I should double the bacon on this salad"! Since she is wicked nice, she does not say this. She will bring me the salad, but she is gonna leave the damn bacon on it. Fuck!

OK, so I can pull the bacon off. They bring the salad. It's actually really delicious. Que sabrosa! The shrimp is huge, plentiful, and grilled. It occurs to me that the fixation on serving piping hot food in the U.S. is a sort of fetish. I've been eating lots of lukewarm/room temperature foods in Oaxaca. OK, it seemed weird at first but it sort of grows on you. Now, I dig it. What the hell, maybe I've gone native.

Time to eat the shrimp/spinach salad! I put the bacon aside as I'm able. I'm sure I ate some. Yes I am a vegetarian, but I just thanked the immortal soul of the poor pig and probably ate a few morsels of his big butt.

This damn salad was still like five times the size of my cabeza (head)! I was ready to slide off my chair and take a long nap after eating the son of a bitch. So, sober and friendly Amy Winehouse returns, to offer this nugget of wisdom: "That wasn't very much food, you need coffee and a dessert!"

I didn't, but I tipped her twenty percent, so she would know that I loved her.

Burn Your Crotch

I was bummed to hear about the attempted airplane bombing in Detroit on Christmas Day. Not only is it a very, very bad idea in itself, to say the least, but it punches up the level of hysteria a notch or two.

Who needs it? I was flying just before Xmas, and the alert level was already "orange", whatever the hell that means.

So what is the deal with the suspect, a kid from Nigeria named Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab? He wanted to blow himself up, and take a plane load of people with him. This is seriously antisocial behavior. But he messed up! It did not work.
Me, I'm suspicious. This guy has an engineering degree from a top London school. Can't he make a damn bomb that works?! I'm thinking maybe he didn't really want to blow his sorry ass up after all.

But what then? Maybe Al Qaeda gets pissed at him. "What the fuck, Umar, why are you still alive? Since we can't trust you, maybe we should just lop your head off!"
So the kid needs a cover story. He's thinkin', "Yeah baby, I'm a bad ass engineer and I can blow shit up anytime I want, but, um, I don't want to die today. Or kill 300 other people either."

So he gets this great idea... "I'll fake it! Yeah!"
Umar Farouk slips into the mens, and like, defuses the bomb. But, he still wants to look cool to Al Qaeda, so he decides to set off the fuse anyway as if he was really gonna do the deed.

Umar is thinkin', "Yeah man, I'll just pull the fuse, and it will like, practically burn my dick off! But no one will get killed, and I will have still look like one bad ass terrorist!"
It works! Everyone thinks Umar Farouk is a real player, but down at Al Qaeda HQ, the brass is thinkin', "Dude, if you want to burn a dick, can't you just make it Dick Cheney???!!!?"

Peter Kuper's New Oaxaca Book

Peter Kuper, noted cartoonist and illustrator, has released his Diario De Oaxaca, his sketchbook journal of his two years in Oaxaca. This is a gorgeous compendium of accomplished drawings and sketches, visual reportage on the vibrant culture and natural beauty of Oaxaca.
Kuper also documents the popular uprising against the despot governor Ulises Ruiz Ortiz in 2006, and the impunity with which the government killed more than twenty people, including American journalist Brad Will.
In a recent talk in Oaxaca, Kuper pointed out that the government is still stonewalling the facts of the Will case, lying through their corrupt teeth about it.
Diario De Oaxaca is available from PM Press.
It should also be in bookstores and comic shops for the Holiday season.

New Steve Lafler Store

I've just updated my online store. Featured items are 40 Hour Man, Self Employment for Bohemians, Bughouse, Tranny and the El Vocho T-Shirt. Now there's some unusual and wonderful items for Holiday shopping!
I will publish my next graphic novel El Vocho in 2010, then reissue my whole catalog of comics on my Manx Media imprint, and it will all end up in the store.

Judging of Peers

To be free, don't waste your energy and intent judging others.
Likewise, don't attach their judgments of you to your energy and intent.

Wednesdays are for New Comics

I've posted roughly half of my next graphic novel El Vocho, and will keep posting until the book is done. I just hatched a plan to post each Wednesday, trying to impose some semblance of a schedule on this thing.
Hey, today is Wednesday! I just posted El Vocho episode #35.

El Vocho T-Shirt

You may or may not know that I'm posting my next graphic novel, El Vocho, in blog form as I work on it. I've posted 34 episodes so far, about 50 pages worth of comics.
I just created an El Vocho T-Shirt that is available from Cafe Press. Vocho is the knickname for the VW Bug in Mexico, pronounced "Bocho", with a sort of soft B.

Publishing: Book Trade vs. Print on Demand

Here is an interesting side note on my book publishing activities.
In 2006, I published 40 Hour Man, written by Stephen Beaupre and drawn by myself. We pressed about 1400 copies. To date about 800 have been sold. I worked hard to promote it, sending out 100 press copies, traveling to to the San Diego Comic Con, the Bay Area, Chicago and NYC. I did seven or eight radio interviews and left no stone unturned. The book was distributed by a book trade distributor. To date, it has not broken even. I'm pleased that it sold as much as it did, but would like it to sell more.
This week, I published Self Employment For Bohemians as a print on demand title. No traveling, no promo copies, no print run. Just viral marketing and manufacturing on a per order basis by a reputable POD house. So far one book has sold. I realize a profit of about three bucks plus from this. So the book is in the black.
Draw your own conclusions!

Self Employment For Bohemians: The Book

I've compiled a collection of the most pertinent and pithy entries on this blog and published it as a book. Part entrepreneurial primer and part swashbuckling memoir with lots of hilarious anecdotes, Self Employment For Bohemians is available for $12.00 plus shipping.
The book offers a lot of nut & bolts advice for freelancers, wound up with tales of my adventures in cartooning, publishing and running a wholesale custom T Shirt shop.
Just like the header on this blog says, if having a regular 9 to 5 job is your idea of a living death, this is the book for you!

El Vocho updates

Today is the fourth day in a row that I'm posted new comics to my El Vocho blog. El Vocho is the name of my upcoming graphic novel, a love story/thriller with a green energy angle. I've been previewing the book on the blog to see if I can't generate a little buzz for it before the print version appears next year. I hadn't posted new material for a few months, as I've been more focused on production than posting.
Earlier this week I had a little fire set under my butt by the great comics news site Comics Reporter -- two days in a row, CR posted links and info to El Vocho and my traffic spiked. The standard blog wisdom would be that you build audience by posting new material on a regular basis. So there you have it.

Foilhead Fashionista

Two people have emailed me since yesterday regarding the appearance of a funny hat in New York during fashion week on a male model. The hat, from designer Thom Browne, looks just like the foil hood that my character Gerald Forge wore in my college comic strip, Aluminum Foil.
Gerald appeared with his side kick Benb for four years in the Massachusetts Daily Collegain. The strip was so popular in it's hey day in the late Seventies that the foil hat became the default Halloween costume for the tripping masses at UMass (yup, the late 70s saw Halloween become a three day psychedelic bacchanal at the UMass, Amherst campus).
Was Thom Browne even alive then?! Who knows. But I got a huge kick out of seeing Gerald's doppleganger on the runway. The only thing missing was a GIANT DOOBIE OF STINKY BUD!

Conservative Dopes Duped Again! Anti-Healthcare March

I quote from "internews UK" as follows:

Thousands of people have marched across Washington DC in protest against government spending and president Barack Obama's healthcare reforms.

The protest on Saturday stretched for blocks across the US capital, bringing together a number of groups organised by the conservative Freedom Works Foundation.

So, what is the "Freedom Works Foundation"? A buncha lobbyists funded by big biz? Something along those lines no doubt. Once again, regular folks who identify as "conservative" have been duped by lobbyists and big business to do their dirty work for them. This reminds me of the masses of working class and lower middle class folks who went over to the dark side to vote for Ronald Reagan. They were fooled into identifying with the ruling elites, cloaked in the myth of the "rugged individual". These regular folks voted conservative, against their best interests as the rich plunder the treasury with tax give away legislation, military spending and other programs that help the rich and leave the rest of the population scrambling for health care, jobs, housing, education and the basic services that a just government should foster.
You can't fool all the people all the time, but man it's sad to see regular working folks played for suckers by slick rich vampire lobbyists and entrenched fat cat scumbags who have not worked an honest day in their life. Sure, the fat cats work hard, but it's all about beating the life blood out of the masses.

You Can't Do That

One of my favorite early Beatles numbers is “You Can't Do That”, a splendid burst of churning guitars (it's as if the Talking Heads based their first two albums on this one song!) wherein John Lennon lets loose with a snarling, jealous diatribe at a girl who entertains other suiters besides him. It's an almost perfect Rock & Roll song—short, to the point, emotionally potent, if not a bit too angry. The two guitars interweave so as to enhance and bring to a boil the tension the narrator feels. George never really takes a formal solo so much as he pitches the rhythm to the bursting point, giving vent to the Lennon's frustrated, angry young man.

You Can't Do That. It's a great four words, a message we've all given or received, to and from family, friends, co-workers, lovers and enemies. Often it's not spoken, but implied in a million subtle and not so subtle ways.

About a year ago, I started playing guitar in earnest after occasionally noodling around it with for almost 30 years. I'd owned a couple, played friends guitars, even sat in with buddies for some atonal plucking, but I'd never really dug in and applied myself before.

As a career cartoonist, I've devoted most spare moments of my life to slapping ink on paper with passion and gusto. I've put out plenty of comic books and graphic novels and gained a certain notoriety. All my life it's been pretty clear to me that I came to the planet to write and draw comics. However, due to a confluence of forces, I was utterly compelled last year at the age of 51 to embrace singing and playing in earnest.

I've been playing in a “Oaxacabilly” band of expats here in Oaxaca. We get together Thursday nights and play country, blues, rockabilly, rock & roll and yes some sappy pop ballads too. The biggest fun for me is singing and playing my own tunes, of which I've written a few. The words come easy for me, the chords I just grab from basic blues and country blues progressions.

Which brings us back to You Can't Do That. I'm intensely naïve and the king of the faux paux to boot. So it was surprising to me that my friends and family, among others, have less than no interest in hearing me caterwaul and hack away at the guitar! Who woulda thought?! And so it is that I realize, here I am, just another mid-career indie cartoonist with a musical penchant, doomed to croon away in my garage. Well, there is the Thursday night band, and the fact that I'm having an insane amount of fun with this music stuff. All in all, I can't complain, but I have learned my lesson—I ain't gonna go outa my way to make anyone listen to my tunes! Except of course, anyone reading this blog can go ahead and play the video to Ballad of the Bug by clicking on the link here, and heading over to You Tube for a listen. It's a song I wrote with my pal Todd Spiehler, and hell I think it's good--but I would, wouldn't I?

40 Hour Man: The Afterlife of a Graphic Novel

I'll start this post with the hard sell, my 2006 graphic novel 40 Hour Man (actually drawn by me, written by my genius buddy Stephen Beaupre), is available as a Print on Demand book for a bit under eleven bucks on Lulu. The link here will take you to the buy page. It is also available as a FREE download.
Here is a quick description of 40 Hour Man: Is it a career, or a series of really lame jobs? Stephen Beaupre (author) and Steve Lafler (cartoonist) pose this timeless question in Forty Hour Man, a hilarious saga of one working stiff's three-decade journey into the minimum wage heart of the American Dream. It's all here - from scrubbing a steakhouse floor with a toothbrush to going bust in the Internet boom. Every bad boss. Every crazy co-worker. All the more shocking because it's true!

The availability of this title via Lulu is the latest development in the life of a small press title in the post print era. I'll briefly outline the trajectory of it's distribution, it's an object lesson in the difficulty of being a print guy like me in the post print era.
First, I tried to get 40 Hour Man listed in the Diamond Comics catalog. Diamond said no, the book was "not visual enough". Strange, as every book I've put out since the mid 80s has been sold through Diamond. And, every graphic novel I've put out has exceeded Diamond's sales minimums. Go figure, but Diamond is trying to pare down the amount of stuff in the catalog, and is run by bean counters (this is the nicest thing I can say about the company as a whole, but I do appreciate how much of my output they have moved in the past).
I got a break of sorts when the book was well reviewed in Booklist, the American Library Association's review rag, and another when it was picked up by book trade distributor Biblio (a sort of junior varsity book trade distrib). This combo of breaks added up nicely, with 3 - 400 units moved, many to libraries. Through a variety of marketing ploys, I was able to move another couple hundred units.

Sadly, Biblio was not doing well and was bought out by Atlas Books, the distribution arm of vanity press printing giant Bookmasters. Bookmasters is the type of company that looks good on the surface to a small publisher, they can handle production, printing and distribution under one roof, and are well organized. However, they are not really in the book distribution business; they are really in the business of squeezing every damn cent they can out of the small publisher. I'd say they are corporate predators, looking to nickel and dime unsuspecting green publishers with odious charges for every thing they can think of. Their warehouse staff does not cut a fart without charging you 40 cents for every book you have warehoused with them. In short, Atlas/Bookmasters SUCKS.

OK, so I cut and run from being distributed by Atlas. So where does this leave a fine title like 40 Hour Man? Enter Lulu.com, a decent POD outfit. The Print on Demand field is getting crowded, and like Atlas, many of these firms charge high fees for services rendered. I like Lulu, as I can still make a buck and get a good quality book out there.
I like offering the free download, it just makes sense. Hell, the Grateful Dead let the tapers set up to record every show, and got rich and famous. With the print version of 40 Hour Man, I'm adding a $1.00 fee to production cost for me. Mr Beaupre and I both put a fair amount of coin into bringing this title to the public, maybe we can get enough back to buy ourselves a pizza some day!

Six Days on the Road

"Six Days on the Road and I'm gonna make it home tonight", the opening line from a really cool song. I like the Taj Mahal version, just a rippin' blues reading of a great road/trucker song. Been trying to learn how to play it, a basic blues in E really, shouldn't be too hard, but how to lay down the rhythm?
I start with that country blues twang and before you know it, you're chuggin' full tilt Texas blues boogie style, and it tends to get away from me. Played it with my pals the Bodega Boys a couple months back on a night when we actually had bass and percussion in the house (well, on the patio by the Bodega anyhow), and I slammed that Texas boogie rhythm style pretty good 'cause the bass and percussion guys were doing all the counting, I could just rip without thinkin' too much. Later on, in the comfort of my own garage, I couldn't keep a lid on it without the bass & percussion team putting down that bedrock to jam on.
Anyhow, the wife, kids and I just logged 2705 miles in six days, driving from the city of Oaxaca to Santa Rosa, CA. That last day was a bear, close to 800 miles from Phoenix to Santa Rosa. I just kept humming that tune, "Six Days on the road and we're gonna make it home tonight". Done!
The heart of the journey was highway 15 from the heart of Mexico, cutting across the state of Michuacan, gorgeous & green in the Mexican rainy season, up the west coast by Mazatlan then past Guaymas and Hermosillo to cross into the US at Nogales. We made good time cause the kids stayed happy. Max, almost 8, is a good traveler, but Genevieve (almost 4) is a screamer! But she came through this time, her bubbly effervescent joy intact. We found three hotels with pools on the way and threw in a lunch on the beach in Mazatlan.
Sure, we had to bribe a cop in Mexico city and we saw hundreds of sullen looking Mexican soldiers in troop transports heading towards Guadalajara, but overall it was an upbeat trip.
Again, that last day was a butt buster, but we had to finish the trip; otherwise I could not, in all honesty, have been crooning the "six days" tune all that last day!

Hellbilly Steve

Hey, it's true, I just haven't been posting stuff here lately. Why the hell not, ya lazy bum? Truth is, I am hard at work on EL VOCHO, my next graphic novel, and I'm not paying attention to much else... EXCEPT MUSIC!
I've gone to Oaxacabilly Hell and I love it. This video is but a hint, hell we made it on a Monday during daylight hours fer chrissakes, next one I promise we'll make in the wee hours after a shot of Mezcal... but anyhow, you get the idea.

Lucky Man available on Lulu

A couple years back I published a great debut novel by Ben Tanzer on my Manx Media imprint called Lucky Man.
The book did well and garnered some sterling notices out of the gate, and I was able to place it with a half decent book trade distributor, Biblio. This distrib went under, sad to say, and was eaten by an unscrupulous vanity house that really sucks (Atlas Books/Bookmasters... avoid like the plague!!!).
This rendered Lucky Man unavailable.
I'm happy to say that Lucky Man is now available on Lulu.com in a revised edition with a new version of the cover for $16.00.
It's a gripping coming of age novel with a finely drawn ensemble of characters than Tanzer visions in his own unique voice, of course I highly recommend it!

Lucky Man, ISBN 978-0-9769690-3-7

BugHouse Graphic Novel at Daedalus

My best known graphic novel, Bughouse, has become available from Daedalus books for the incredibly low price of one buck. Bughouse was published in a variety of formats -- the strip first appeared in my long running comics anthology Buzzard. Feeling the groove with the material, I began publishing Bughouse as it's own comic book in '94 and it ran for six issues before I collected it all as a graphic novel in October '96, under my old Cat-Head Comics imprint. The burst of creative energy I hooked into with this material was downright thrilling.
Top Shelf partner and all around comics enthusiast Brett Warnock suggested an expanded edition, and they published it in the summer of 2000. Top Shelf went on to publish a trilogy of Bughouse titles with Baja in 2002 and Scalawag in 2005.
Rather than write a new description of the book, I'm gonna quote from the Daedalus blurb, as they got it right:

In this first novel from the Bughouse series, Jimmy Watts turns from a wiseacre Catholic school kid into a gifted saxophone player. He pulls together a band with his friend Slim, elopes with a sexy bug named Julie, and tries to find inspiration while going on and off the bug juice. Populating his graphic novel series with anthropomorphic insects, Steve Lafler tells the story of the jazz band Bughouse, playing in a Manhattanesque setting in the early 1950s. Junkie musicians, crooked cops, and double crosses are all part of this "insect noir" ensemble piece. Tenor saxophone maestro Jimmy Watts leads his talented band of bugs from the swing era into the uncharted maelstrom of Bop, looking for a new sound while fighting the temptation to be consumed by addiction to a substance known as bug juice. "I love Bughouse. I'm fond of the little bug-creatures that inhabit it," said Phoebe Gloeckner, creator of A Child's Life. "Steve Laffner has created an alternate universe. His insect characters are not particularly cute (well, some of them are), but one can easily empathize with their meaty human struggles with addiction, ambition, love, power, greed, and lust."

Okay, so they spelled my name wrong in there, I must admit to getting a kick out of that.
In any case, this here is a chance to pick up my signature book for nothing. I'll admit that it does not please me that the book has suffered such an ignoble fate, but it's just not something to take personally.
Top Shelf publishes a lot of stuff, and has the resources to promote only a small fraction of the titles they publish. The book biz itself is facing what some call "The death of print", so it's a tough market and has been for awhile, even with all the talk of the graphic novel being the dynamic growth genre. Certainly Top Shelf put forth good faith efforts to sell my book, it's just that the serious promo was reserved for the Craig Thompson, Jeffrey Brown, James Kolchaka and Alan Moore books.
My contract with Top Shelf actually expires this June. It was a pleasure to work with these guys and put out a trilogy of books. However, come June, I am free to market and package my Bughouse material anew as I see fit. I'll be sure to blab about any Bughouse developments here in this blog as they happen.

One Magic Night at the Mezcal Still

When I moved to the city of Oaxaca some 19 months ago, if you told me I was gonna to hang out on Thursday nights with a motley assortment of ex-pats playing bluegrass, country blues, old timey and rock & roll, I'd have been dumbstruck. For one thing, as a very casual guitar player of many years, I'd have told you I simply don't have the chops for it. Well, these fine fellows, also known as the Bodega Boys, are not only indulgent of aspiring musicians, but some of the guys are fine teachers to boot. So it is that I find myself many a Thursday evening by Tony's (Don Antonio's) bodega in San Pablo Etla, a village a few miles out of Oaxaca city, with my near vintage Epiphone guitar in hand, ready to pick, grin and party with the Bodega Boys.

I don't think I can describe the Bodega Boys any better than they can describe themselves, so here I respectfully quote from their myspace page as follows:
The Bodega Boys define all styles, yet are no styles. From Johnny Cash to Bob Dylan, The Beatles to Bluegrass, Hillbilly to Hellbilly, The 50's to the 70's, Acoustic to Electric, The Bodega Boys go where no cumbia, mariachi, or trova group dare. The Bodega Boys line up is continually changing and the set list will forever be a work in progress. On most nights the line up includes Don Antonio as "Toby Juan Adobe" on Vocals, Guitar or Mandolin, Johnny Rico as "The Playboy" on Guitar, Mandolin or Harmonica, Dengue John as "Alpine Elvis" on Fat Bertha the Bass and Washtub Bass Hall Of Famer, Mr. Bill Blackson as "Black Bill" thumpin' along on the one string. These days you may also find swingin' Bodega Boy Mississippi-Boston-Berkeley Brian as "The Hammer", UK Chet MATT-kins CGP on the 6120, Jazzy Jeff as "Jefe Jeffe" and Esteve as "The Red Headed Boy".

All I really need to add is that these guys are called the Bodega Boys because they play under the stars at Don Antonio's Bodega, that is to say his storage shed/workshop, which is on his fantastic country estate that includes a Bed & Breakfast guest house. Come Thursdays, the Boys set up on the patio in front of the Bodega and have a go at it.

Understand, this is all a prelude to my description of last weeks session. Instead of a regular evening of music by the bodega, Don Antonio had something more amazing yet up his sleeve. You see, less than 100 meters from the bodega, up a winding path, is the site of his Mezcal distillery. Mezcal is a distilled spirit made from agave (a.k.a. maguey) cactus. It's production and consumption is principally associated with Oaxaca. Smokey, smooth and sweet, it is not to be confused with Tequila, which is made only from Blue Agave. There are many variants of Mezcal, depending on the agave used, and of course on the distillery and the skills of those involved.

Just before this particular Thursday evening, Don Antonio sent a message to the Bodega Boys that he would be transforming Shi Shi to Mezcal, and advised that it would be a magical event. Now I'm the farthest thing from an expert on the distillation process, but I believe that he was referring to the third and final round of distillation that creates his top grade of mezcal.
I arrived fairly early in the evening to find the maestro at work with only one other observer at the still. Don Antonio actually has two stills, one the standard Kentucky/Tennessee metal barrel still, and the other a classic ceramic Oaxacan still. Each set up was slowly dripping hot mezcal, perhaps a quart every thirty minutes or so.

As the Shi Shi goes through the stills and comes out as mezcal, Don Antonio collects it in large glass jugs then transfers it to smaller bottles. He runs a test on each bottle for it's alcohol content and marks it with the pertinent information.
Within minutes of arriving, I'm offered a jicara (a small cup made from a gourd) with a taste of the latest bottling. It's hot and sweet, different from any mezcal I've tasted, slightly sour instead of smokey. It reminds me of hot sake while being something completely different—it's delicious, seductive and very much to my taste. Don Antonio checks the alcohol content of the bottling and it's 46%. Asked to guess at the content, I'd guessed 30 - 35%, as it's so smooth. Wrong!

Over the next half hour, the Bodega Boys and several friends trickle in to the site of the still, in jovial spirits. For many it's the first time visiting an active distillery—all us first timers are very curious about the project. Don Antonio is a great host, somehow managing to explain bits of mezcal and distillation lore and history to the assembled company while staying completely focused on the task at hand: running two stills simultaneously. Some of the Bodega Boys, such as Dengue John, Johny Rico and Jefe Jeff, are old hands at this and they pitch in, assisting with both the chores and explanations.

All the while, our gracious host is passing samples around from various stages of the days work. Needless to say, an early bottling of more than fifty percent alcohol is popular and draws enthusiastic comments.
Small jicaras are passes around with hot fresh mezcal, but the real treat is the communal jicara. Don Antonio fills a large jicara with a good six or seven shots of mezcal and instructs the assembled to pass it around. Some have a sip, break out in a big smile and pass it, while others thoughtfully linger over it for a bit.
Me, I'm driving a good ten miles back from the campo to my house in Oaxaca city later in the evening, so I stick to the odd sip of the latest batch rather than downing shots. It is easy to lose count, and the mezcal works it's magic on me to some degree. Ultimately I keep a grip on my consumption and wits so I'm able to make it home safe and in good order... but not before strapping on my Epiphone for a few tunes with the Bodega Boys!

Somehow or other, in the cramped space around the two stills, we squeeze in Don Antonio, Johnny Rico and myself on guitar, a visitor named Garth on mandolin, Dengue John on stand up bass with Bill Black and Jefe Jeff ringing the proceedings with the two wash tub bass attack. Despite working and sampling all day, Don Antonio tunefully croons some of his favorites and handles his vintage Guild guitar with aplomb, notably Folsom Prison Blues and They're Gonna Put Me in The Movies. He never misses with his signature song, The Ballad of Thunder Road, about Appalachian bootleggers. It's a rollicking tragic country romp of a tune, immortalized in a noirish Fifties movie starring bad boy Robert Mitchum. Clearly, Don Antonio loves this tune and relates to the renegade bootleggers that it chronicles.
The boys roll out two or three tunes at a crack then refocus on the matter at hand: Fresh hot mezcal! After all, we can make music any Thursday night, tonight is about creating a different flavor of magic.

Bored? Try This at Home.

This illustration of straightforward seduction will appear in the next installment of my ongoing web comic El Vocho.

Copyright 2009 Steve Lafler