Blue Mr. Tobin
A few years ago, a sixth grader said to me, âWhy are you the only teacher without a Bitmoji?â I was irritated at myself for only catching onto the new tech craze after everyone else. Old Man Tobin with his rotary telephone and UHF knob? Iâm not on the cutting edge, but Iâm a smidge edgy. And being smedgy made it all the more irritating. I resented having to make a Bitmoji, as if it was an onerous administration ask. Sign out with the office if you want to leave the building and make a digital avatar.
But I made one. And partly in that rebellious spirit, I made myself blue. But I also kind of had no choice.
I have a fairly dark complexion, especially in the summer. My college girlfriendâs mother said I looked âethnic.â Mitch Hurwitz, creator of Arrested Development, said I was âomni-ethnic,â and his running joke was, âWhat language that, Azerbaijani? No offense, Dan,â for whatever nationality arose. But I tend to confuse. In LA, a Mexican guy said he wanted to speak Spanish to me, and a clerk in Boston actually did. In Cuba, a hotel worker said I didnât fit with that North American group, and in Portugal a server couldnât believe I wasnât native. But I swabbed my DNA and Iâm Zelensky: a 40-something Ukranian Jew with a background in comedy. And my deeper ancestry was a variety of other cabbage-eating Eastern European countries.
So the avatar colors that looked right didnât feel right. I donât want to misrepresent who I am or offend anyone. Plus blue made me laugh and fits how I do sixth grade.
Now I put my avatar everywhere, in every situation. Hats off to the Bitmoji team, they make âmeâ look funny. Sometimes I match it to the situation, sometimes I recline in a bowl of ramen. Sometimes I hang with a cow, sometimes I am a cow. When kids ask why Iâm blue, I might say, âThatâs a great question, excellent questionâ and move on. Sometimes I say, âWhy are YOU blue?â Sometimes I say Iâm not blue, there must be something wrong with their eyes. Occasionally I say Iâm paying tribute to my Smurf heritage. Itâs just another bit.
I forget Blue Mr. Tobin until another adult sees it for the first time: âOh⌠youâre blue.â Itâs fine to be intentionally irritating with the kids, but only to select teachers (Hi, Katie!) so I usually just say Iâm just having some fun. And I am. My wife laughs any time she sees my slides, thinking of slides she see at her job. And I say, Yeah, sixth grade is fun.
The Week in Dog Poo
World Cup fever has yet to claim me as a victim, and maybe it wonât; I canât get excited about a sport that routinely takes 95m to reach a nil-nil tie. But I decided to imagine my rare two-dog walk was a World Cup match. Ginger usually is the Messi of the pair, so Winnie was a huge underdog heading into the walk. It helps that she looks a bit like Underdog. But early on, maybe the equivalent of the 15th minute, Winnie struck first and jumped out 1-0. I knew Ginger had it in her to catch up, and maybe she did it. I thought I could tell the difference between a pee squat and a poo squat, but either both her #2s were actually #1s or the leaves hid all. I shuffled through the leaves both times and couldnât find anything.
Then in the equivalent of the 85th minute, Winnie sealed the victory 2-0. No extra time was added, as we were already walking by the trash barrels. A dominating win for the Win, any given Sunday anyone can be a winner. There may be an asterisk for a poo or two we had to leaf behind. But do you believe in dog poo miracles?
The Urban Blah
Back in 2009-11 I collaborated with the brilliant Lovisa to make a webcomic that failed to become syndicated across the globe. I am pro-recycling.
It used to be that weâd have just a couple of weeks between summer and winter â itâs snowed the past two Halloweens. But Earthâs climate death spiral has netted us a lovely fall. Temperatures still hit the high 50s as late as this week, and weâve had a series of Final Warm Days that kiss 70. Not sure itâs worth losing a couple of arctic ice sheets that will render much of the planet uninhabitable. But fun to wear shorts in November! In 2010, it felt like fall still put in just a brief appearance, so this comic made more sense in its time.
Also, Lovisa has a substack, you should subscribe!
Jam of the Week
Spotify Wrapped is always a shock, never what I thought were my top listens. I think they reveal your #1 after the year actually ends, but the year-end favorites I saw featured plenty from my summertime electronica rut. Two albums featured prominently, specifically the upbeat Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas and the slightly more sinister Alejandro Molinari. Not sure how I found each of them, but I spent a lot of time listening to MIT radio (WMBR) and BC radio (WZBC, âThe Zâ) so itâs good bet itâs from one of those. But good listens, proof I listen to plenty of different stuff.
My Back Pages
From a script for a web series I wanted to make with a friend, âThe Adhesive Avenger,â 2004:
JOE, late 20s, weight of the world on his shoulders, sits at the table wearing a T-shirt and sweats, drinking coffee. Joe extends his hand across the table toward a sugar bowl. Nothing happens. He tries again. MAX, late 20s, comfortable in his own skin, ENTERS.
MAX: No glue?
JOE: What?
MAX: Doesnât glue shoot out of your fingers?
JOE: What? No. Thatâs insane.
MAX: No it isnât. Youâre the Adhesive Avenger.
JOE: (LAUGHS) Thatâs hilarious. Iâve got to remember that. (THEN) I mean, I know the Adhesive Avenger. I could probably get a message to him.
Ah yes, the Adhesive Avenger. A recurring idea Iâve had about a lame superhero, it was a Halloween costume, and then some friends and I made a movie trailer. My cape was a pillowcase.
I have a hard time letting go of ideas that make me laugh, so ten years later I resurrected the Adhesive Avenger. That was the premise of the script, too.
MAX: Joe, we need to talk. Â
JOE: Not now, Iâm a little fuzzy. I think I got hit on the head.
MAX: Mmm, little more than that. Â
JOE: Well, thatâs good. I feel like death warmed over. What happened?
MAX: Just keep an open mind. (DEEP BREATH) 1986. Dr. Hole is working on a death ray, you track him down, you fight in an abandoned warehouse, Dr. Hole kills you. Thereâs a big funeral and everyone finds out youâre the Adhesive Avenger. Eighteen years go by, itâs the year 2004. I dig you up, bring you back to life, you take a shower and drink all my coffee. Just kidding, have all you want. Anyway, youâre back, you seem okay, and there we are.
I was drawing off The Incredibles rather than The Boys or even Watchmen. An intriguing feint at world-building if Iâd fleshed it out.
JOE: This is a lot to process. (then) Youâre saying Metallica is popular.
MAX: And they cut their hair.
JOE: Whoa. (semi-dazed) Eighteen years. I really thought someone from Metallica would be dead by now.
MAX: Yeah, the bass player.
JOE: Cliff, dead. (then) Me, dead. Â
MAX: I know, itâs messed up. But youâre not dead now because I brought you back. Okay? I reincarnated you. Are you getting this? You were dead and now youâre not because I brought you back to life!
The Adhesive Avenger keeps getting hit by a bus and reincarnated.
MAX: I donât know if Iâm going to be able to keep bringing you back. You really have to watch it.
JOE: Spare me the lecture, Frankenstein. It wasnât exactly fun dying again.
MAX (suddenly really interested) Hey, whatâs death like?
JOE: Enh.
Joe reaches for tries the milk behind him, trying to shoot glue again. Nothing.
JOE: This sucks!
MAX: Death sucks?
JOE: No, having no powers sucks. Deathâs not awesome either.
He watches the TV documentary about his death and has an existential crisis
JOE: Why me? Whyâd you have to bring me back? The world doesnât even have superheroes any more.
MAX: I know. We need you.
JOE: I donât even have my powers. (tries to shoot glue again) Yeah, donât have my powers. Â
MAX: Maybe if you stopped dying every ten minutes theyâd come back.
JOE: That canât be helping. But Iâm nothing without my stupid powers.
MAX: Whatâd you have besides the glue fingers thing?
JOE: I could make adhesives stop being sticky from up to forty yards away. (concentrates) See, the label should have come off this beer.
I liked the name The Adhesive Avenger, but really it was worthy of being a character in MAD Magazine or on a Letterman Top Ten List. Nothing more. But if you read this and happen to want to invest in a new production company, Iâd like to sell you my pitch for The Adhesive Avenger in Space/vs Predator/Saves Christmas. Letâs go into buisiness together.