Sara and I spent the weekend at her parents’ house in Missouri, where most of the network TV originates from Kansas City. Being near the end of October, every commercial break was packed with political ads from Kansas and Missouri.

One huge difference I noticed between these ads and the political ads in Nebraska was that the identification of the political party was nowhere to be found. Same with yard signs and stickers. Here in Nebraska, people are “Conservative Republicans for Change” or “Family Republican for Congress” or whatever. It may be explained by something as simple as state campaign laws, but it sure does suggest that Nebraskans – for all their claims of being independent populists – are far more likely to blindly vote for a party than their neighbors to the south and southeast.

And speaking of political ads, last night I caught the new Pete Ricketts “Clicker” ad.

It’s an interesting approach to take, attempting to get him off the hook for his pretty embarrassing existing arsenal of TV ads and fighting the opinions of 56% of voters who view him unfavorably. But like all of his commercials, it’ll likely backfire, because it essentially criticizes the viewers for disliking his commercials.

Like he has no choice other than to make ridiculous claims and accusations with animations and silly voices. Like the seniors he’s supposedly talking to who are worried about health care can’t figure out that his faithful alliance with corporate Republicans might not be in their best health care interests. Like the families who are worried about high taxes can’t figure out that eliminating the “death tax” will result in revenue shortfalls that will only come back to them.

He’s very consistent – I’ll give him that. We viewers / voters are too stupid to really understand issues for ourselves, so we need someone like Pete to talk down to us and tell it like it is. I mean, no one could possibly be campaigning on a platform of “Conservative Change in Washington” without thinking his audience is completely clueless and ignorant.

Today I went to a gas station to get my Journal Star, and as I got out of the car, I slipped and fell backwards into my seat. The cause for such slippage? There was a banana peel on the ground. I literally slipped on a banana peel. In real life. It really works.

I’m hoping sometime later today I’ll step on a rake and it will smack me on the forehead.

Lincoln will have its own 24 Hour Comics Day at the Hi-Way Diner at 2105 Highway 2.

Check out 24hourcomicslincoln.com for more information on our gig and check out 24hourcomics.com for more on the challenge itself (and if you’re not in Lincoln, maybe a venue where you are).

UPDATE: Gunscribe has some photos and a write-up on his blog, From the Heartland, from his visit the other night.

Aaron, John, Andrew, Marcus and Justin all finished their comics by about 6:30 a.m. I ended up pooping out after losing my momentum and finished the night at 18 pages. I’ll get it finished probably sometime this week (known as the Eastman Variation, taking more than 24 hours to finish) and try to get everyone’s stuff posted to the 24 Hour Comics Lincoln site.

I drove down 13th street today when some big machinery off to the left caught my eye. And then the giant hole in the Douglas 3 caught my eye, which made me feel a little stupid for not noticing that sooner. Pretty soon, it’s going to be a block that makes me think “Why can’t I remember what that used to look like?” But this is what it looks like as of about 1:00 this afternoon.

Sara and I love to play Twister, but often we find we would like to play Twister when we’re the only ones around. This presents a problem because there is no one to operate the spinner.

Enter Lane Phillips. Sara and I approached him about making an automated Twister spinner, so we could just turn it on, set some kind of time delay, and play Twister with just 2 people.

Yesterday, after about 2 years of waiting (of which I’m guessing 10 minutes were spent on the actual work), he presented this.

The man is a genius. Long live Lane Phillips. May this invention bring him vast riches. And while you’re at lanephillips.net, check out Lane’s Guide to Quoting Monty Python.

I realize that if it’s clever blog titles you come here for, you probably find yourself regularly disappointed.

But anyway, the artists known as Mad Pakyderms had a show at the Meadowlark Cafe down at 16th and South (1624 South Street to be exact) Friday night. I just wanted to show off this beautiful print I picked up and plug the show. I’m pretty sure the work will be on display throughout the month.

This poster caught my eye as soon as I walked in. I loved it even more when I realized it was a show I’d actually been to.

This photo is a little unflattering, because the camera flash makes it look like the ink wasn’t printed very well and the perspective kind of warps it, but it’s an awesome image and I can’t wait to get it in a frame and hang it properly.

Concert posters really seem to have become a respected art form. I’m kind of late figuring that out, cos I’m not really that into it in general, but the stuff at this show is totally worth checking out.

In my neverending battle with Cingular’s coverage area, I’ve had to send in another phone in the hopes that the new one will do a better job of picking up the cellular signal.

I e-mailed myself the photos from the phone so they wouldn’t be lost forever (other than in the secret file folders of returned-phone warehouse workers), and now, for your enjoyment, here is a selection of PHOTOS FROM MY RETURNED LG WHATEVER.

1. The In-N-Out in Reading along I-5

From my two-week documentary jaunt in June, this was my first In-N-Out since my birthday of March of 2005 in San Diego. I had intended to eat there at lunchtime, but I was too slow getting down from Eugene, so I had to eat there for an early dinner. I then proceeded to eat at nothing but In-N-Out for the next five meals.

2. The last In-N-Out meal

This was my last taste of In-N-Out, less than 48 hours later. I had an early lunch driving through the easternmost In-N-Out on I-80 in Sparks, Nevada. Since it was my last meal there, I went for the 4×4. Here it is resting in my passenger seat as I got back onto I-80.

I didn’t want to eat a sandwich while getting on the interstate, as apparently that would disrupt my ability to drive safely. Meanwhile, I guess taking photos wasn’t a problem.

3. Times Square

Sara and I went to New York in July. I took this to send to my mom.

4. A church

I forget the name of this church, but it’s on 5th Avenue on about 50th street. Sara and I went to mass there the next morning, but this was on a walk around the neighborhood.

5. Sara caught the bouquet

From our friends Ryan and Amy’s wedding a few weeks ago.

6. Andrew vs Matt

After a post-bars croquet game in the greenspace north of the Union, friends Andrew and Matt decided to take their shirts off and fight.

I got quite a few more photos from the fight, but they’re not pretty.

7. Melany’s Halloween costume

This is my niece, Melany, in her Halloween costume from last fall.

Melany’s deliberate stomp reminded us of a penguin’s waddle, and thankfully, she wanted to fulfill the comparison by dressing as a penguin for Halloween.

8. Melany washing her hands

I taught Melany how to build up a lather with handsoap. She was absolutely thrilled by this discovery.

9. Melany and Miqaela with Sara

I’m not sure when this is from.

10. Crowne Plaza in Indianapolis

This is from the hotel I stayed at in Indianapolis, which was the converted train station downtown.

11. A tour of my old apartment

I moved out of Spaghetti Works last fall, and before closing the door one last time, I took a series of photos with the intention of assembling a panoramic view. That never happened.

and the little tiny bathroom

12. A funny sign I saw … somewhere

I can’t remember now where I was, but this was in a mens room.

In case that came out too light, it used to say “Wash hands after using the toilet,” but someone scratched out “using” so it says “Wash hands using the toilet.”

and finally

13. The Prids at The Crystal Ballroom, Portland OR

This was the first night in their opening slot for Built to Spill back in June.

Usually when I make a comment about the cartoonists on the Cagle.com cartoonists syndicate it’s to make some point about how the cartoonists are creating work that lacks any sort of insight, debatable point, or relevance.

Today is no different, but there’s an added bit of bite to the usual criticism of these smug thugs. If you check out the compilation of cartoons on the JonBenet Ramsey killing and John Mark Karr confession, you may note a handful of cartoons with a similar message:

Now that the “real” killer has stood up, the media’s unfair treatment of the Ramsey family is in full view.

The obvious irony here is that, in their haste to chastise those nasty reporters who’ve picked the Ramsey bones dry (I’m borrowing from several of their visual metaphors), they similarly rush in their conviction of a man who quite clearly was not the killer.

Way to go, guys.

In fairness, if you look through those seven pages of cartoons, there are two that actually attempt to make a point beyond the obvious rah-rah “The media sure is nasty!” point that everyone’s going to agree with. One was especially bold to the point where I’m surprised a paper ran it.

I regularly dream about old, abandoned buildings. There’s probably some standard dream-dictionary meaning for dreams about old, abandoned buildings, but I’m 100% sure that my dreams about them stem from my awake-life fascination with them. I love finding them, exploring them, examining them and dreaming of owning and restoring them. There’s no secret about that. So I think any symbolism about the dreamt old, abandoned building is probably lost in the fact that I daydream of them.

But I dreamt last night about the old Calvert downtown of Auburn, which is also in no need of deciphering because there’s a particular building there I’ve had my eye on for about 10 years. But in this dream, the Calvert downtown (which is often a subject of old-building exploration dreams) was quite a bit bigger. The block with the courthouse on it was sans-courthouse, and instead just had a full block of old-fashioned downtown-style buildings.

I was with several people, but the only ones I remember specifically were Sara and this girl whose name I’ve never known who used to live in Spaghetti Works that I used to see playing pool a lot. But those were the only two in the group of about 10 that I was with. We were just wandering through this part of Auburn, apparently without purpose. The only thing I really remember about what we were doing was that it was a hot day, we were looking for some relief from the heat, and the streets were made of dirt.

We went inside a building on the end of the block that had huge glass windows in front and a winding staircase going upstairs. The second floor was dark, so Sara tried to flip on the lights. The wiring was old enough, and the building was neglected enough, that the light fixtures just emitted sparks. This was immediately troubling because it was a hot, dry day and much of the interior of this old building was wood.

Immediately a fire started. Not only inside, but a breeze carried it outdoors, too. The group of us knew that if we didn’t handle this fire immediately, the whole area of downtown would be lost due to the fact that these were all old and interconnected buildings.

Normally in a situation like this, I might expect the dream to take a futile and helpless turn. But it didn’t. It was a struggle, but we put out all the fires.

I hope that, if anything, this dream was a suggestion that my desire to help restore the decaying parts of Auburn might be successful. And that Sara and the pool-playing former Spaghetti Works resident are good at helping put out fires.