Sold a “Lollipop” and swapped a “Best Ride” for services rendered.
The sale was to one of the first friends I’d made in Berkeley, who dropped by the café and said, “I don’t have that one.” The swap was to Stan (See Adventure 396), who observed that the stand which props up my “Buy Bob’s Books” sign was held together by Scotch tape and took it home and fixed its hinges.
The only other interest in my wares came from a black-haired, swarthy complected, baby toting, British-accented young man on leave from a job researching international charitable organizations. He turned out to be descended from Marrano Jews. That, I correctly noted, gave him a Right of Return, which, he qualified, would do him no good since it did not apply to his wife, who, while Jewish, was not of Spanish origin.
In other news…
1.) The young woman who did not call me last week scheduled a second phone call – and did not call me then. She did call the next day and we had a nice chat. She said she wanted to interview me for a book she is contemplating about older writers she admires. I said I would be delighted, though this “admiration” seems based entirely upon an article I wrote about her father and stems from my revealing things about him she had never known. (I also suspect that, unless she admires writer with a larger profile, this book will not get far.)
2.) A greater honor to come my way is an invitation to appear at a NY Comics & Picture Story Symposium next year: https://www.youtube.com/@nycomicssymposium/videos.
I’d be able to talk about whatever I want, and if it corresponds with FU’s production schedule, would seem like a good time to focus on “Messiahs, Meshuganahs…”
3.) Which is progressing nicely, thank you. The proofreaders have cleared another 150 pages, leaving about 50 to go. (“Bob on Bob” has made it too the printer’s, so copies of that may be arriving shortly. One more has been spoken for, by a high school classmate. So reserve yours before all are gone.)
4.) Finally, my review of “Oblivion” (https://www.tcj.com/adult-comics/) drew responses that termed my prose “ confused,” “meandering and largely unreadable,” and “weirdo libertarian garbage” and took the opportunity to blast the book’s publisher for supporting authors who are misogynist, sexually predatory toward trans people, and facistic, racially-tinged paranoids.
So far my invitation to the NYCPSS has not been withdrawn.
So many Bob Levins on the Internet; I'm the Bob Levin who writes.