Monday, July 28, 2008

Night Job.



When I lived in Philly during the early 80's there were at least three fellas who woke up each morning and dressed themselves up as Benjamin Franklin. Only one them, I believe, was paid to do so. He had a very nice costume, paid for by the National Park Service which manages Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell attraction. The others, thought they WERE Benjamin Franklin. I thought it would be funny if they got into a street fight. I dreamed of seeing the Ben Franklin scuffle splashed across the front page of the Philadelphia Inquirer.

If there is one guy who dresses up as a raccoon every evening, I figure that there must be another out there somewhere. At least one of them probably thinks he/she IS a raccoon.

Golly, I could go for a cheesesteak right now.

11 comments:

Marina Grechanik said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Marina Grechanik said...

Charming story, Marty!
Beautiful drawing!
I'm just in love with your black strokes on the background!

Anonymous said...

Oh my word, the little raccoon hands! This is fabulous - I adore your raccoons Marty.

benconservato said...

So Marty, are you telling us you use to get dressed up as a raccoon?
Hehehehe, I love your drawing, I love the hands too and the loose style. Wonderful.

Marty Harris said...

And what if I do get dressed up as a raccoon? It's a perfectly fine costume for the nocturnal crime fighting super hero. Built in mask!

Thank you all for your kind support.

melissa said...

Wonderful use of light and shadow. Reminds me of Tony DiTerlizzi.

benconservato said...

Ohhh, crime fighting, there is more to Marty than meets the virtual eye!

Ollif said...

A lovely story indeed)))
The racoon rocks(=

melissa said...

I missed your cheesesteak comment earlier. Living so close to Philly we take it for granted. The rest of the country just doesn't get it. I think out west I was once offered Ketchup. WHAT?

Marty Harris said...

Ketchup!! Oh, say it isn't so! That is SO, so........I'm speechless......and still craving a cheesesteak. Although, a polish sausage with kraut and mustard on an Italian roll from a Philly street vender would be mighty satisfying right about now. Must be careful not to drip mustard on my fur.

benconservato said...

Supposedly they sell the best vegan sloppy joes in Philly too, something I might just pass on... definately stick in your fur stuff.