So this thing was obviously meant to be for Halloween and for the lateness, my sincerest apologies go out to Mr. Colt Hoskins, but check this out right here:
Things have been nuts in the real world, but I promise you that I been working on some great writing for this here website. I’d tell you to be patient, but I’m inclined to doubt that no one is sitting around waiting.
OH NO LOOK AT ME I AM BEING SELF-DEPRECATING AND FISHING FOR COMPLIMENTS POOR ME POOR WOLKIN.
(Click here for the Mustache Archive.)
Dear Reader,
Last week I published a summary of my recent experience at New York Comic Con by recounting a story about a large stuffed goat that was taken from me as a child. Through the lens of this so-called “goat story,” I sought to convey a sense of my inner being throughout the convention in a humorous fashion.
Some of you may have read it. Some of you may have laughed. Some of you may have cried (Mom). One of you send me a link to the wikipedia page on transitional objects. This last one was deeply unexpected.
This is an image that comes up when you search for the phrase “fun blister” on Google:
Wolkin’s House of Chicken and Waffles and Comics is an institution that prides itself on its relationship with you as its sole reader, and as such, I pride myself on having an open relationship with you.
It is with this in mind that I regret to confess that I lied to you last week.
I told you that I don’t know what happened to that goat, but that’s not the truth. The full story is that when I was about 12, I found the goat hidden in the woods. I quickly ran home and told my friends Chris, Teddy and Vern about the goat, and we hiked along the railroad tracks until we found it again, experiencing a series of character-forming adventures along the way.
…No. NO. That’s a lie too.
The truth is that when I was 16, I found the goat in storage at my synagogue, and my friends and I spent the next two years taking inappropriate pictures with it, kicking it all over the place, and generally treating it with complete disregard. I’ve always wondered if I resented the goat for abandoning me. Maybe I was just being a silly teenager. I like to tell myself that at least it wasn’t a real goat, because if it was, then our behavior would have predicted that we would be serial killers today.
But the bottom line is that I didn’t tell you the complete truth and for that, I am truly sorry.
I’m gonna play this one a little different and put some words about my man Guy Gardner in your way before we get to the mustache action as a delightful parting gift. Sure, you can just scroll to the bottom but I will know you did it and I will never forgive you. Ever.
Let’s do this thing.
Click here to read more »
Colt Hoskins knows what’s in my heart and on my mind:
I’m really going to miss Frankie like this. I did little post-mortem on the Franken-Castle era for ComicsAlliance not too long ago.
(Click here for the Mustache Archive.)
When I was a boy a very little boy I had a giant stuffed goat in my closet. I do not know where this goat came from and I never gave this goat a name but you should know that I loved this giant stuffed goat very much. I would have taken it to bed with me if I could have, but it was too big it was bigger than me and so it stayed in the closet. But the goat was too big for the closet and you could not go into the closet without tripping over the goat so eventually the goat became a problem. My father is into proper storage and he does not like clutter very much but he does love organized closet space and so over time he came to resent this goat. I do not know if the resentment ever became so great that he had thoughts of violence towards the goat but remember that this is a stuffed goat so that was probably not very likely.
One day my mother and my father had a conversation. I was not a part of this conversation but it is clear to me today that they talked about the giant stuffed goat and how it needed to go. I do not know if my love for the goat came up in their discussion, but you need to understand something: I loved that goat with all my heart.
On another day that was probably not long after this first day, I remember that my mother took me and the goat for a walk. I do not remember if we made any stops on this walk, but we had to have because I do remember that when we returned to my house the goat was not with us anymore and I was a sad sad child. I do not remember receiving any explanation about the goat and as a very young child I am not sure if I deserved one but I know that my sadness my true sense of loss and the utter confusion that came with not knowing the fate of the goat planted a seed inside my psyche that today has blossomed into the full-blown mess that is now my subconscious mind.
On the first day of the convention I was heading to a panel and I was walking towards one of the rooms it was one of the A rooms and then a bunch of people started coming out of A122 and many many of them were holding large stuffed animals mostly dogs and tigers and horses and things like that. I did not see any people holding any large stuffed goats but believe me when I tell you that from that moment on the only thing I could think about was that goat. It was all I could think about for the rest of the convention.
If you saw me at any point after this point you should realize that I was probably thinking about that giant stuffed goat that was taken away from me. Maybe I was friendly to you maybe I was shy maybe I was rude. Maybe we talked about comics and maybe we didn’t talk at all. Whatever it was that we talked about you need to know that no matter what I was saying in my mouth, my heart was crying out for a long lost goat that will never ever be returned to me.
