About a zillion words into a post about ifferisms, I discovered I was so bored I couldn’t go on, and if I couldn’t go on, neither could anyone else. So I abandoned it. That left a void in the topic area, but the only I word I could think of was I.
Well, they say write what you know: I like these books. I like these movies. I like chocolate.
Then David gave me permission to write about Alien Resort, a cartoon peopled–or, more accurately, aliened–by visitors from outer space.
Creator, writer, and illustrator, Earthling David Davis, is aided by the four ETs pictured below: Coy, Plucky, Deadpan, and Lmao. Coy founded Alien Resort after crash landing on Earth. The others arrived later. Read their bios here.
The cartoon appears in newspapers from California (Alameda Sun) to Brooklyn (Canarsie Courier) to Cumbria, UK (Egremont 2day ) to Australia (Dunoonand District Gazette), plus a number of other publications along the way. They’re listed at the Hall of Fame.
In June, David’s “Alike and Different,” a video “dedicated to the kindness of strangers,” won the Out of This World Award at the Lionshead Film Festival in Dallas.
The emcee who introduced the video said–and I wrote this down so I would get it right–“Not much I can say. Four minutes.” And then, to the audience, “We’ll see what you say.”
But he was half grinning/half giggling, which said a lot. And the audience laughed in all the right places.
When people you don’t know, and who don’t know you, laugh in all the right places–well, it makes you feel darned good.
Afterward, the emcee said David’s video shows what can be done using just a few household objects. I assume the household object to which he referred was my vegetable steamer. It does make a stunning spacecraft.
When David told me the festival would be held at Valley View Center, an old mall on Preston Road, I said, “I know Preston Road.” And that is true. Sort of. I know approximately two blocks of Preston Road. Or, I knew two blocks of it. My knowledge peaked sometime between, oh, 1957 and 1965.
Consequently, as a navigator, I was hopeless. I read the big green exit signs and said things like, “There’s Walnut Hill Lane. I know that.” And, “There’s Belt Line. I know that.” I’m just a bit hazy on how all the streets I know fit together, like on a map.
[Typical on-the-road conversation:
David: The mall is in the Galleria area. Do you know where the Galleria is?
Me: Yes. It’s in Houston.]
Fortunately, David had performed due diligence and we reached our destination without having to depend on the kindness of strangers.
The Lionshead festival was smaller than others we’ve attended: all fifty-two films were screened in one small room. But I was impressed by the quality. “Call for a Good Time,” was one of my favorites. It was named Best Student Comedy Micro Short. The director, a student at Baylor University, said it was inspired by Baylor’s Moody Memorial Library, which serves as an unofficial social center. He said you have to get pretty deep into the library to study, which is what his characters do. Sort of.
My other favorite was a comedy titled “Hard Broads.” I can’t explain. You have to see it for yourself. It was named Best Female Directed Short. I didn’t see a Best Male Directed Short on the list.
Two days before the festival, the Dallas City Council voted to tear down Valley View Center to make way for the Dallas Midtown development. It seems it’s “a dead mall on life support.” Dead, maybe, but I liked what I saw of it–art galleries and studios and kiddie rides and a train. I’m a sucker for trains. And stuffed animals, and a store displaying the most well-endowed mannequin I’ve ever seen. I snapped a few of the highlights.
For more out-of-this-world experiences, check out Alien Resort.
Here, in no particular order and, possibly, of no particular interest, are photos taken the weekend of the 2012 Roswell Cosmic-Con and Film Festival: uncaptioned, uncropped, just thrown out into cyberspace.
A few remarks to help in the deciphering process:
The first are from Friday night’s costume party at the Roswell Zoo. We expected to see space creatures but found zombies, executioners, and belly dancers as well.
The belly dancers danced with pythons. The dancer on the left has one wrapped around her arm. She was returning it to its basket.
That’s David in the tee-shirt with spacemen on the front.
The baby was cute, so I took her picture.
The space car was parked at the Holiday Inn. I don’t know whether it’s a permanent fixture or a visitor.
Billy (now Bill) Mumy was on the premises, but I didn’t see him.