Scanning my #$@! photos, Day 5: Portrait of the blogger as a young mercenary

old town art fair

When I was growing up in Chicago in the 1960s, the Old Town Art Fair was a big, fat, hairy deal. I didn’t understand what “unjuried” meant. I didn’t understand what the term “entry fee” meant. All I knew was that my friend, Chicago Jan, lived in a building just off the main drag, that my grandparents (who lived in a building across the street) thought I was a genius and that I was an artist, dammit, why wouldn’t a bunch of complete strangers want to buy my drawings!? And potholders!? For just 50¢!?! They were a far sight better than some stupid lemonade.

Stupid lemonade…



  1. Get thee to a lawyer, pronto. CLEARLY, Trey Parker and Matt Stone ripped off your drawings for their Southpark characters! You can totally retire now!

    (you were adorable, btw, all knee socks and sailor girl dresses!)

  2. Jeremy – Damn, you’re right. I do that a lot, it see–wait a minute—I’M DOING IT RIGHT NOW!!!!

    jenny – Actually, we settled out of court six years ago. I’m not supposed to discuss the terms, but let’s just say it took the UPS man a long time to find my gracious retreat in the Hills the first few times…

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