Sunday, June 01, 2008

A FLEETING FRIENDSHIP IN THE LAND OF THE NIDRIAN


This is a photograph taken in 1978 by my pal Alan Bretz during the course our eventful driving trip from California to the Yucatan. Math has never been my strong suit but I think that's 30 years ago. This picture was taken in Valladollid and was recently unearthed for- I'll whisper- a dcmntr.

12 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

What a great photo! It also makes my photoshop finger itchy... ...mmm, so itchy...

10:05 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Documentary!?

2:34 PM  
Blogger Jim Woodring said...

Well... perhaps...

3:44 PM  
Blogger Matt Tamaru said...

I'm picturing the "Ken Burns" effect now.

11:44 PM  
Blogger Dave said...

That's 30 long years of scruffiness.

8:28 AM  
Blogger Jim Woodring said...

Yes, I've been very fortunate.

12:16 PM  
Blogger max clotfelter said...

that photo makes my belly ache and my feet itch.

12:27 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

My you've aged well!I saw you when you were in Sydney, Australia for the 'writers festival'. I thought you seemed younger and more aware than the other 'younger' cartoonist that was speaking that night. xxx

2:58 AM  
Blogger Chris Brandt said...

Jim Woodring in a documentary? Do tell! ;-)

10:27 PM  
Blogger SnommElf said...

Ding-dong!!-- I'm remembering when I was 8 (1977) and my travel and writing-type father bought an orange 1970 VW camper van (replete with 8 track player, storage for a case of vienna sausages and the requisite saltines) and we bopped our way on Tijauna Brass from Fort Worth, TX all the way to Cancun. Cancun hadn't quite been ruined yet from what I understand. We went to Tampico and Vera Cruz. Chichen Itza and the still-being-troweled Palenque satisfied my young archeological fascinations. The roads were horrible -- no interstates -- only 2-lane elevated highways running in between the sugar cane beds -- quite precarious when wind was catching the side of our barge. We had to carry extra gas for the last 240 mile desert stretch to Cancun as there were no gas stations. I remember ganged-up buzzards in the road indifferent to the notion of stepping aside and letting us pass. They were so surly. We brushed our teeth with Perrier and Fanta Orange and even sometimes Mission Grape over the six weeks down there and back. What an adventure. What a great time. I'll never forget it. Thanks for reminding me.

5:11 PM  
Blogger --MC said...

Orale! You heeepy!

12:52 PM  
Blogger Arto Alamaunu said...

Nice photo. Here in Finland they would lean on Lada, which was a common car at the time.

7:23 PM  

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