I’m a well trav­elled urban dweller, who has also lived in the Cal­i­for­nia Moun­tains. I love Cabo San Lucas, and I love Lon­don. Paris at night is sexy and Tijau­na can be fright­en­ing, day or night. Mon­tre­al is cold as hell in the win­ter time but the hook­ers still come out in mini skirts on Dorch­ester Boule­vard. Harlem ain’t what it used to be and Nathan’s hot dog stand in Man­hat­tan has removed the ice cream par­lor. McDon­ald’s on 3rd avenue deliv­ers. Peo­ple in Mis­souri have the best south­ern drawl I’ve ever heard. Every side­walk grate has a per­son sleep­ing on it in Philadel­phia and the street lights are shaped like Her­shey Kiss­es at Her­shey Town. The french fries are the best at Big O’s in Pitts­burgh and Shady SIde has the best Spinich Sal­ad I’ve ever tast­ed. I got the runs from eat­ing those damned craw­fish in New Orleans. San Jose has the coolest lowrid­ers in the west. The Sier­ra Moun­tains were more fun than the Adiron­dacks. The best choco­late I’ve ever had was at Ghi­radel­li Square in San Fran­cis­co. I’ve dri­ven my car at top speed with my eyes closed and arms fold­ed on the Salt Flats of Utah. The Hel­l’s Angels can mean mug you like nobody I’ve ever stared at. I crashed my motor­cy­cle sev­er­al thou­sand feet up on Mount Hamil­ton and lived to go back down the moun­tain. I’ve seen some things but by no means every­thing. I write and illus­trate com­ic strips and ani­mate a bit. I don’t like the taste of lamb, it’s too gamey and once you’ve smelled a herd of sheep you’ll nev­er put lamb near your face again. The only thing that can smell as bad, is a sug­ar pro­cess­ing plant. Ostrich is also an assault to the pal­let. It tast­ed like wet cig­ar butts. My wife likes both lamb and ostrich but then she’s not me. If we were alike one of us would be unnecessary.