"The Colonel," March 1, 2012
(originally drawn 1989)
I apologize for the delay in publication and regret foisting off another old cartoon on you this week but I am visiting friends Tom Hart and Leela Corman in Gainesville, Florida, and have been kept occupied teaching a day-long workshop to Palestinian cartoonist Majed Badra at Tom's new school, the Sequential Artist's Workshop, guest lecturing at the University of Florida, and drawing a custom illustration and cartoon for NASA to be presented to Nichelle Nichols (long story), so I just haven't had time to draw and scan a new one this week.
But no one's ever seen this drawing before--it wasn't even in any of my old minicomics--and I hope you'll find it rather winning. I drew several cartoons of Colonel Sanders prancing naked and whooping around this time for reasons I'm sure we can all agree are better left unexamined. This image was inexplicably, embarrassingly popular among my readers, the Waminals of its day. The Colonel turned up everywhere, nude and hooting, even at Burning Man, but this one was by far the most elaborate scenario. (I drew it as a gift for my then-girlfriend, which may give you some sense of what my idea of romance in my twenties involved.) I am particularly fond of the unexpectedly Baconian effect of the screaming little boy's face, his mouth a-bawl, eyes covered.
I would return to this subject again years later in the solemn confrontation between the two great military men of the chicken world:
"General Tso vs. Colonel Sanders" (2001)
I suppose it is possible that I am the biggest idiot in the whole world.
THIS JUST IN: The birthplace of Colonel Harlan Sanders, Henryville, IN, has been ravaged by tornadoes. (Ominous shades of the streak in early '07 when my cartoons appeared to be predicting, or causing, the deaths of celebrities, from Gerald Ford to Anna Nicole Smith.)