Homebody Dad #3

“This is very good,” David said to Lucy who handed him a comic strip she had drawn.

“I thought maybe you can put it on your website,” Lucy said.

“If you don’t mind then I will. It will go up in a couple weeks.”

“No. Today.”

“But I have other comics to post first. They’ve already been scheduled.”

“Daddy…” Lucy began pouting.

“All right. I’ll move the other posts down and post this one today.”

“Yay!” Lucy squealed and began dancing around. “Millions and billions of people are going to see my cartoon. Millions and billions of people are going to like my cartoon,” Lucy said in a singsong voice as she danced.

“Will they?” Alison asked.

“What?”

“Will millions and billions of people see and like her cartoon?”

“I barely get to 1,000 pageviews per day and have never passed 200 Likes on Facebook or Instagram. She’s getting nowhere near millions and billions.”

Everyone left for work and school while David stayed home. He scanned Lucy’s cartoon and posted it and rescheduled all the other posts. He spent the rest of the day watching TV, playing with Oliver, and cleaning. He got back online about three and saw over 1,400 Likes on Instagram, over 700 on Facebook with 15 shares, and nearly 100,000 pageviews on his website.

“Son of a bitch…” he said.




“I can’t believe we have a meeting with an investor like Siddhartha Osayande,” David said as he and Milo went to the ninth floor of the Santa Fe Building downtown. “He helped get that upscale shopping center built in that bad part of town.”

“And I go there once a month. He’s doing so much for this city that I’m shocked he agreed to see us,” said Milo. “If he agrees to invest in us then we’ve got it made.”

They arrived at the ninth floor and went up to the front desk. “Welcome to Osayande. How can I help you?”

“We have an appointment to see Mr. Osayande.”

“Name?”

“Milo Story and David Livingston for Chesney Hill Brewing Company.”

“Okay. Go right down this hallway,” she pointed “and it’s the third door on the right. I’ll let him know you are coming.”

David and Milo walked down the hallway and gently knocked on the door. “Come on in,” said a voice behind the door. Milo opened the door and the two of them walked in. “Mr. Story. Mr. Livingston. How are you two doing?”

“We’re good?” Milo said. “I want to thank you for seeing us. You’ve done so much for the city and we’re glad you’re thinking of investing in us.”

“This city has two breweries already and it’s quickly becoming the next big thing. I’m worried that I’ve missed the boat but there’s no harm in trying. And getting in on the ground floor would help immensely,” Siddhartha explained.

“Here is our portfolio of beer that we are currently making. We have enough room to start one more but any more kinds or a larger quantity would require more space,” Milo handed Siddhartha a folder and he promptly opened it.

“If I were to invest, I would want my own flavor. I hope that’s not a problem.”

Milo and David looked at each other. “I don’t think that would be an issue. What were you thinking?”

“Something unique. I’m a huge fan of the smell of lavender and I feel something with my name on it should have something fancy. Gold flakes,” Siddhartha mused. “Is that possible?”

“Well, I guess. What kind of taste do you want for the beer. Dark, light? Do you want it hoppy or…?” Milo asked.

“Which ones would make the lavender and gold stand out?”

“Probably light and not as hoppy.”

“Can you make me a sample?”

“It’ll take about a month but yeah.”

“Make me a small sample that we can serve here at the office and we’ll see what happens.”




“It’s not...terrible,” David said, taking a sip of the lavender beer they had been making the last couple of weeks for Siddhartha. The beer was a pale purple color highlighted by a light yellow color. Little gold flakes, barely noticeable except in the right light, floated around the drink.

“Lots of companies have a lavender beer so I researched, tested, called, tried to get as much info as I could on lavender beer,” Milo explained. “Maybe this just isn’t meant to be.”

“Maybe Siddhartha will like it,” David shrugged. “I don’t think he really plans on selling this stuff. It’s just to have.”

“Well, he can have it,” Milo said. “I don’t think this is something that we’re going to be known for.”

“Someone will like it.”

“I only care is Siddhartha likes it. How are your little pictures doing?”

“My comics?” David smiled. “They’re okay. Lucy drew one that I posted a month or so ago. It’s currently the most popular comic on my site.”

“So the most popular comic on your site wasn’t even done by you,” Milo clarified.

“Oh, no. Of course not. Why would that happen?” David jokingly asked. “She’s trying to come up with a sequel but she has writer’s block. Her words.”

“I think this is as good as it’s going to get,” Milo said. “I’ll call Siddhartha’s secretary and let her know we’re ready for him to do a taste test.”




About three days later, Milo and David were back in Siddhartha’s office with a couple growlers of the lavender beer he had requested.

“Interesting,” Siddhartha said after taking a sip. “This will be perfect for the Expo.”

“Expo?”

“It’s a large expo I’m starting that showcases the diverse businesses the city has. I want you to offer this beer and one or two of your other kinds at your own booth if you can. It will be great exposure.”

“That’d be amazing,” Milo said.

“Have my secretary give you the info. We look forward to seeing you at the Expo,” Siddhartha stood and shook Milo and David’s hands.

The two of them got the information and went back down to their cars. “Yes!” they exclaimed and high-fived. They then shook hands and hugged.

“This is it,” David said.

“We’re headed in the right direction now,” Milo stated.

“Alison is going to be so happy.”

“We need to figure out which two beers to bring.”\

“I say a light and a dark. That way people can try both along with the lavender.”

“Ugh. The lavender. But if Siddhartha want to special order it then I am fine with that.”

“We need more room if we’re going to start keeping a lavender for Siddhartha.”

They continued talking back and forth in the parking lot for the next half hour before getting in their car and heading home.

Homebody Dad #2

Milo pointed the camera at David and hit record. “And...action.”

David smiled and started talking “Hello, I’m David Livingston and I am a cartoonist for my website…”

“Wait. Cut,” Milo said. “This doesn’t look right. We need to do something about the lighting. It looks like we’re filming in a warehouse or making a ransom video.”

“I don’t know. We can turn on this desk lamp and use a piece of paper to soften it.”

“We can try that,” Milo said. “Also, after you say your name add ‘and these are my demands’.”

“Ha, ha. This is serious. PayMeOn accounts with videos are 20 percent more likely to get funding,” David said.

“Twenty percent? That seems awfully high.”

“I don’t have the exact math, Milo,” David sighed. “Let’s use the desk lamp and a piece of paper.”

David turned on the lamp as Milo turned off the ceiling lights. David taped a piece of paper to the lamp to cover the bulb. Milo looked through the camera and at David as he sat down. “That does look a little better. A bit more natural.”

“That’s good. Okay, cue me.”

“All right…” Mike hit record. “Action.”

“Hello, I’m David Livingston and…”

“...These are his demands,” Milo growled.

“Dammit, Milo,” David lept out of the chair toward Milo and the camera.




“What’s the plan for today?” Alison asked, grabbing her satchel and heading to the door.

“Milo and I don’t have any investor meetings today so I have blocked out all of today to work on my website. I only have about a week of material left so I need to get more done,” David explained.

“Sounds good,” Alison and David gave each other a quick kiss.

“I should be done by lunchtime,” David said.

The familiar horn sound blared and the audience groaned. Drew Carey offered his sympathies to the contestant and then segued to a commercial break and said the Showcase Showdown was next. David was on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

“This show should be on in primetime,” David said with a mouthful of cereal. “But then it wouldn’t be on now…” he said ominously.

As the game show ended, David looked at the time as the next show started: the four ladies who argued with each other. David figured it was time to start working. He went upstairs to the office he made himself in the guest bedroom.

He sat down and began drawing. He drew two guys looking at another guy. Do you know anything about Juan? Not really. He’s quiet and keeps to himself. Huh. I guess it takes Juan to know Juan.

“Hah. Classic,” David said. He then began drawing another but stopped shortly after drawing the panel. He stopped acting enthusiastic about working and began doodling on the legal pad he kept on the desk specifically for notes and doodles. He got up from his desk and went into Oliver’s room. He was taking his mid-morning nap and should be waking up soon. Oliver was still asleep. “Oliver,” David whispered. Oliver didn’t move. “Oliver!” David shouted and shook the crib.

Oliver awoke and began crying.

“Oh, Oliver, it’s okay,” David picked Oliver up and hugged him. “Daddy’s here. Let’s go see if Joe and Blue need help solving another murder. Oh, but someone needs a little change first.”




Around one, David was feeding Oliver some lunch. “How about one where I make fun of kids shows talking to the audience? Dora asks a question and there’s no answer. Each panel we zoom out more until we see her TV is in an abandoned house.”

Oliver didn’t respond and just continued to eat whatever was on the spoon David was using.

“A little too dark? Ah, you’re just a baby. You don’t know what the Internet likes,” David’s cell phone rang. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey. How’s your day of work going?”

“It’s going great. Give me your opinion on this one. This guy is reading the newspaper and with each panel his face shows confusion. In the last panel he smiles and says ‘Oh, I get it. Cathy thinks she’s fat.’” Alison went silent. “Did...did the phone cut out?” David pulled the phone away from his ear and saw the cell phone still connected.

“No,” Alison sighed.

“It’s not funny,” David said.

“No, it’s not that. Just...he’s reading a newspaper. Is Cathy even in the newspaper anymore? I know it came to an end a few years ago. I’m sure it will be funny to someone though.”

“No, I’ll keep working on it. How’s your day?”

“It’s fine. A lot of paperwork today but that is most of my job.”

“Want to quit? Come draw cartoons with me?”

“That sounds amazing especially the part where we’re homeless on a street corner with a cardboard sign that reads ‘Will draw cartoons for food.’”

“Ouch.”

“I have to go. See you around five.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“You like my comics,” David said to Oliver. “Here, let’s show you how to post a positive comment on Daddy’s website and create a Facebook account so that you can Like my Page.”




“I can’t believe how many views this comic has gotten just in the last six hours,” David said to Alison as they stared at the computer screen.

The comic was loosely based on he and Alison’s conversation earlier and just their whole life situation so far. The first panel showed David and Alison talking. I want to quit my job and draw cartoons online for a living. The second panel was a close-up on Alison. I guess. Let’s do a six month trial. See how it goes. Third panel. Oh, thank you, honey. I love you. David hugged her. Alison smiled, What’s the worst that could happen? The fourth panel had the whole family on the street in ratty clothes next to a refrigerator box. David was holding a sign that read: Will draw cartoons for food.

“It’s because you’re being real. You’re showing a part of your life. People like that. They like stuff that’s relatable,” Alison said.

“I guess so. I don’t know why people don’t want commentary on comic strips that haven’t been around in almost a decade but whatever,” David shrugged.

Homebody Dad #1

HOMEBODY DAD


David Livingston was sitting in his cubicle listening to a call. Every few seconds he would pause and write something down then start the call up again. While listening, he faintly heard his name being said. He stopped the call, took off his headset and turned to see his supervisor standing behind him.

“Glad to see you monitoring some calls. We have a few concerns about some of the calls you’ve been scoring.”

“Really? Why cuz?”

“Well,” the supervisor sat down and opened a small three-ring binder. “These are the more pressing concerns. We audited these calls and found glaring examples of protocol being skipped over.”

“What? Really?”

“Like this call. She neglected to read one of the scripts, didn’t give out a phone number, and didn’t verify the caller’s ZIP code.”

David took the paper and looked at it. “I remember this call. There were three scripts she neglected to read. I marked her down on two of them.”

“Even if you don’t mark her down, we’d like you to list what script was skipped.”

“That seems unnecessarily malicious,” David said. “As far as the phone number, it was a number that wouldn’t have helped the caller. She pointed that out during the call. As for the ZIP verification, I know. I chose not to include that because that would’ve lowered her score to a 1 which means she would’ve gotten a verbal warning. I noted that she needs to verify the ZIP code and that next time I wouldn’t overlook it.”

“What we’d really like to do is have the CSR say ‘There is a number you can call. I’m not sure if it will help you but let me give it to you.’ See?”

“But then they are giving useless information to the caller which is also something we score down on, and makes the call longer, which we also score down on.”

“You get scored less heavily on those though. Better safe than sorry.”

David gave his supervisor an odd look. “Bottom line, you want me to start being nitpicky over the calls? Start throwing the hammer down? Show that there is no longer a Mr. Nice Guy?”

“We just want you to do your job,” the supervisor sighed and stood up to leave.

“‘We just want you to do your job,’” David mocked.

“Did you have any questions?” his supervisor popped up over the cubicle wall.

“No. I’m good,” David quickly said.




David got home and parked in the back in the alley. He got out slower than he normally did, weighed down by what he was told at work.

“David, guess what?” Milo Story, a neighbor and good friend of David’s came over from across the alley. “I finally went downtown and got approved to start bottling and selling my beer.”

Several years ago, Milo had started brewing his own beer in his basement and since then it had kind of become a big organization and he had been talking about getting a license to bottle and sell it for several months now.

“Congrats, man,” David shook Milo’s hand. “Let me know if you need my help. I want to support you in any way I can.”

“I need investors so if you know anyone who would like to get in on the ground floor, let me know.”

“I will. See you later,” David waved and headed to his house.

David went in and walked through to the living room. Their nanny, Rose, was sitting on the couch watching TV. A vacuum cleaner hung on the front window curtains. “Hi, Mr. Livingstone,” Rose said.

“Hey, Rose. How was Oliver?”

“A perfect angel like always. He ate at 9, 1, and 2:30 and I put him down for a nap at 3:15. We watched that new show on Nick Junior. It was okay. I think Nick Junior has better shows than Disney. You would think that Disney would be better but Nick Junior, I think, tries harder.”

“Yeah, I see that. I always liked Nick Junior when Sophie and Lucy were little. Did you ever get that thing on the bottom of your foot looked at?”

“Oh, yes. I did.”

“That’s good. What was it? Wart? Corn? Blister?”

“Tic-Tac.”

“Oh. Of course,” David shrugged. “Rose? Why is the vacuum hanging on the curtain?”

“There was a spider on the curtain and I didn’t want to use a tissue or something that could leave a smudge on the curtain so I tried to vacuum the spider up. It didn’t quite work out.”

“I see. Just use a tissue or napkin next time. Or just ignore it.”

“You’re the boss,” Rose shook her head. She got up off the couch. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Livingstone.”

“See you, Rose. Have a good evening.”

David went upstairs and into the attic. “Where would they be?” he asked himself quietly. He moved a couple of boxes and opened a plastic tub. Inside was a bunch of comic-related books and magazines. Packed away with them was a manila folder with David’s own comic strip in it.

He had drawn the comics through high school and part way through college. As he flipped through what he had drawn, he chuckled at a couple of them. The art left much to be desired--not much more than stick figures but he thought they had potential. Even if they didn’t look good, they were kind of funny although he may have been biased.

He heard the door open and someone come home. He gathered his comics and went downstairs. He saw his oldest daughter, Sophia, and wife Alison, standing in the kitchen. “Hey, Sophia. What are you doing home, honey?” David gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek.

“I had to go pick up our daughter--son--from school. She...He hit another student.”

“What? Why?”

“He kept calling me a girl,” Sophia said.

“But you…” David began but Alison interrupted.

“Michael has decided to identify as male,” Alison said.

“Okay,” David sighed. “That still doesn’t mean you hit other students.”

“He was being stupid and made me angry.”

“I understand. But you will soon figure out that a lot of things are stupid and will make you angry. There are a lot of stupid people in this world especially on things like this but just remember that most people you meet in life will support you no matter what. Okay?”

“Okay,” Michael nodded. “I’m going up to my room.”

“All right,” David said. “Leave your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“You hit a kid today. You’re grounded. Three days.”

“Okay,” Michael huffed and laid his phone on the kitchen counter.

“What brought all this on? He left here as a girl,” David asked.

“I don’t know. You know Michael hasn’t felt comfortable in quite a while. This is just where those feeling ended up,” Alison said. David leaned down and rested his head on the counter. “Bad day at work?”

“Not really. Things just got all piled up today. My boss wants me to be more of a, well, I don’t want to use the word Nazi but I don’t know what word even comes close.”

“You’ve been unhappy with this job for awhile now haven’t you?”

David nodded. “I wanted to ask you something. Since you went back to work, I have been thinking about cutting back my time at the call center.”

“You mean quitting because they don’t allow people to cut back on time.”

“Yes.”

“Look, David, I get it. You hate your job but it’s been really nice having your extra income these last few months. We could still make it but it’d be tighter.”

“I was thinking of that. We’d save money by not hiring Rose and Milo is going to start bottling and selling his beer and he’s looking for investors.”

“So we won’t even have what we have saved up over the last year or so? Just so you can drink with your best friend?”

“You don’t seem to approve,” David said. “We’ll start making money as more people buy but, I agree, it may be awhile which is why I have plan B.”

“Begging in the streets?”

“No. Creating a webcomic.”

“Oh. Begging on the Internet.”

“During high school I used to draw a comic strip and I think it has potential,” David slid the folder of comics toward his wife.

She opened it and began flipping through them. “I remember you saying that you drew these. You’ve never shown them to me before.”

“They were always put away or I forgot I saved them. Anyway, with ad revenue and maybe donations from fans we could maybe clear a few dollars a month. I know it’s not ideal but I think it’ll work.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this,” Alison said.

“It’s been a busy half hour.”

“We can try it. Six month trial? We can go from there. Okay?” she wrapped her arms around David’s torso.

“Really? Oh, thank you, hon,” he kissed her. “I’m gonna go wake up Oliver, change my clothes, and sketch some ideas before we make dinner.”

“Okay,” she chuckled and watched him run upstairs. She went into the living room. “David? Why is the vacuum hanging on the curtains?”