Welcome to the web log of illustrator, cartoonist, writer, motorhead, and future Wal-Mart greeter Lou Brooks. I've gone cold turkey blogless for the last few months, and let me tell you, friend, it hasn't been easy! Have you missed all your old familiar pals?... Balloon Face, Typositor Tom, Mr. Irresponsible, and those endearing rascals, The Ass Puppets? Well, to be honest, they're not here, and they're never coming back. But lots of others are just waiting to make all this worth your while, so let's get going! Shall we?

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot... check out my newest Internet brainchild, The Museum of Forgotten Art Supplies, where tools of the trade that have died or have just about died a slow death are cheerfully exhibited -- Over 300 of them and counting (all submitted by folks like you!).

 

Labor Day, September 5, 1944. I remember the day I was born. I suddenly noticed there was a lot more room, which was nice. There was a radio on. Then a man in the room said, "Jesus Christ, that nurse talks too much!" That would have been my father. I didn't know who this Christ guy was, but as life went on, my father brought his name up a lot. My mother would occasionally call out, "Jesus Jenny!" I have no idea who that was either. August 6, 1945. Things had been going pretty swell. Then there was this sadness, and everybody seemed to get real quiet. Beginning that day, the world seemed different. Like I was put in exile or sumthin' for no reason. April 27, 1962. My father still wouldn't give me permission to smoke in the house. I told him in the kitchen that I wanted to spend my life as an artist. He smoked Camels and blew out one of those quick sarcastic smoke puffs, you know, the kind they blow out the side of their mouth and it makes their one eye squint and gives them this really scary half-grin besides. "What are you gonna paint," he said, "FLOWERS?"

 

Let's get down to... MONKEY BUSINESS!

Courtesy Grand Comics Database www.comics.org

Check out Lou's book of tongue-twisting limerick madness for kids of all ages! Visit the Twimericks website now or die!

« The True Story of Lou Can Now Be Told! | Main | Party Gag Art #6 »
Monday
Feb182013

New Lou Interview for DEADBEAT Magazine

Babes, fast cars and tattoos! What more could a boy ask for? Thanks to Deadbeat Magazine and my new friends in Oz down under for a great lead-off interview and feature. Some of the juicy bits excerpted here...

"I’ve always hated going to school of any sort. To me, it was a job, only you didn’t get paid. I was pretty ambitious, but I didn’t see the sense in having to show up anywhere and do a lot of things that I didn’t want to do... Going to a real art school that taught you how to be something besides an art teacher wasn’t really affordable, so, my parents convinced me to take the first job that came along – all-night dishwasher and busboy at a local Howard Johnson’s.

"Meanwhile, I had sent some art samples to a local city newspaper, and miraculously, they hired me. They put me on night shift there as a masker in the ad department – painting red lacquer on sheets of acetate. I grew to enjoy staying up all night, and have been a night people ever since. Eventually, they taught me to set phototype and work the stat machine. Best part of it, though, was touching up stripper photos for the newspaper burlesque ads. I thought I was Van Gogh."


The newspaper was the now-long-gone Philadelphia Bulletin, and the burlesk ads were for the Trocadero Theater in Philly's tenderloin on Arch Street. When thiings were slow in the art department, a few of us would sneak down to catch the late show. We told everybody we we'd been to the Teddy Roosevelt Opera Company (T.R.O.C.). First show I saw there featured Virginia "Ding Dong" Bell, and I've been an opera fan ever since.

"My father was a bean counter at a rail car company. So, I had to look elsewhere on my own for any culture beyond what a blue-collar suburban life had to offer. There was television… Walt Disney, Warner Bros. cartoons, Rocky & Bullwinkle, and all that stuff. I realize now that my career's been a little bit of a Zen thing...

"I could read very well by age four – thanks to a steady diet of newspaper comics and comic books. I knew every comic author and writer by name, and most of the artists wrote their own strip. I was sure that if Rembrandt couldn’t write, then he wasn’t very good, was he?

 "My last job was in the mid ‘70s at a Philadelphia art studio, and by then I was selling freelance illustration pretty steadily, as well as cartoons to Playboy. New York City was just ninety miles north, and I realized that everything I was doing was coming from up there, so my wife and I packed up and moved to New York. To live in New York, even back then, you had to know who you were and why you were there. Beginning each day in Manhattan is like getting hit in the face with a shovel. You have to like it, then get back up and continue down the street. We moved there when the city was at its grimiest and most dangerous. Son of Sam was running around loose. We got hit with a huge blackout. The worst blizzards in fifty years. It’s just hard to live there, unless you’re on a trust fund... for people starting out now, my advice is: have rich parents."

Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>