The Final Word - 2024

Dear Friends, 

Last year, after a peaceful Christmas Day with my housemate Kurt, I took the train down to Manhattan, where I attended “Harmony,” the decades-in-the-making original musical by Barry Manilow and Bruce Sussman that tells the true story of the Comedian Harmonists, a wildly successful group of German comedic singers who were eradicated by the Nazis because three of the six members were Jewish. I would like to say that I loved it, but I barely even liked it. I saw an earlier incarnation a decade ago in Los Angeles, which was flawed but sincere. The version that finally made it to Broadway felt over-thought, overwrought, and second-guessed to death. It played to half-empty houses for most of its run and closed shortly after I saw it. Truly disappointing. 

However, the next day, my trip was redeemed when I attended the long-running off-Broadway revival of “Little Shop of Horrors,” then starring Corbin Bleu and Constance Wu. Corbin Bleu, of High School Musical fame, is a prodigiously talented quintuple threat who can sing, dance, act, do physical comedy, and look stunning while doing it. Constance Wu was also present. The production lived up to the hype, and I was thrilled to meet Mr. Bleu after the show and have an actual conversation with him. He was also the only actor who came out after the show to meet his fans. What a class act. 

Autographed by Corbin Bleu

Unfortunately, I returned home to chaos. Kurt was slipping into dementia at an accelerating rate. It had gotten to the point where he couldn’t dress himself, tell time, read a calendar, or drive. I texted him throughout my two-day trip, but without me being present to structure his day, he went to work at 9pm (instead of 6am) and then had a meltdown because I wasn’t there to help him get ready. 

I reached out to Kurt’s sister Marta to let her know that I couldn’t be his unpaid caregiver forever. She agreed to get engaged. I helped Kurt get Mass Health and food stamps, and scheduled a doctor’s appointment for him that Marta attended. That meeting with Dr. Kidd consisted primarily of a memory test, which Kurt failed with flying colors. Armed with the result, Dr. Kidd ordered an MRI, which was denied four times by Kurt’s provider before it finally took place on June 12, with predictable results—it was inconclusive. Meanwhile, Marta scheduled Kurt for a series of appointments with a neurologist, who despite overwhelming evidence, concluded that what Kurt needed was a psychiatrist to deal with his anxiety and depression. Marta fired him. 

During this fraught period, I did manage to escape to Manhattan in March to see “The Notebook” (great book, horrid music), “White Rose” (a compelling new off-Broadway musical about Munich’s White Rose Society of university students who resisted the Nazis), and a revival of “An Enemy of the People” with Jeremy Strong and Michael Imperioli (great first act, off the rails in the second act). Marta stayed with Kurt and took him to get his taxes done, so I didn’t have to worry about the house. 

In April I went to Manhattan again to hawk my graphic novels at the Rainbow Book Fair, where I did surprisingly well, and took advantage of my time there to attend the new “Great Gatsby” musical (good performances, some memorable music, outstanding scenic design, disappointing book) and the off-Broadway comedy “Oh Mary!”, in which a drunken Mary Lincoln tells her side of the story—funniest thing I’ve seen in years. Go see it if you can!

June was Pride Month. I don’t tend to go to many Pride events, but Ogunquit ME, which has become my new favorite weekend escape, hosted its 4th annual celebration on June 1, so I took Kurt and made a day of it. They raised a Pride flag in the town square followed by a short parade to the local park where a vendor fair was held. Afterwards I took Kurt to lunch at a restaurant overlooking the ocean, then we went to see the musical “Waitress” at the Ogunquit Playhouse. It was a perfect day. 

The one other Pride-related thing I did in June was to appear at Q-Con, a one-day LGBT comic book convention in West Hollywood CA. I appeared last year and didn’t sell very well, so I was on the fence about attending again, especially since by then Kurt needed constant supervision. At the last minute I decided to go, and to hire a caregiver to check in on him daily. I ended up selling much better this year, but leaving Kurt alone for even part of the day turned to disaster, as he tried to turn on the stove and— Well, there are various versions of what transpired next, but at least the neighbors came to his rescue and also texted me to keep me informed. 

The only good news that came out of this disaster is that it brought me closer to my neighbors, whom I had barely met after living in Haverhill for three years. So amongst ourselves we decided that I should do an open house and 65th birthday party when I returned from West Hollywood. It came together quickly and was well attended by friends, neighbors, and co-workers—and held on the day after Kurt left for Maine with his family, so he was not in the way. 

Kurt’s family takes an annual trip to Maine, where they have a beach house. He missed the last two years because he had no paid vacation time while working at Market Basket, and also because he stopped driving. So this year, I talked his family into scheduling their trip to coincide with my trip to San Diego Comic-Con, and to pick him up at the house. This worked out well, especially since they saw firsthand what I dealt with every day, and wasted no time in preparing to move him back home. 

This year’s San Diego Comic-Con was a horror show—constant yelling, trampling, and misdirection from the ill-trained, ill-mannered staff. And I didn’t sell well either. They really don’t care about comics anymore, or creators, or attendees—it’s all about the movie stars these days. This may well be my last year. There are better conventions, including larger ones like New York, where comics and creators are still valued. 

Kurt finally moved out on August 23. With nothing else to do, he spent weeks stacking and restacking his possessions, never putting anything into the boxes I prepared for him, and asking me every day if this was the day his sister was coming. I didn’t want to upset him by packing his boxes for him, so I just let him rearrange things, and made sure to be at work when his family arrived. They packed up everything that was laid out in front of them, and removed Kurt, his stuff, and his car from the premises before I returned home from work. 

Of course they missed a lot of things, since Kurt was no longer aware of what belonged to him. So I spent the weekend locating and packing up the rest of his stuff, and restoring order to the house—five large boxes in total, which I placed in the garage, awaiting delivery instructions that never came. (I ended up donating the packaged goods to a food pantry and the rest to Savers.) When I finished, the house felt eerily empty and quiet, for the first time ever. 

In July I joined the ranks of Medicare and started making plans for the rest of my life. Since I no longer needed to work fulltime to get medical benefits, I was more than ready to leave Cristek. I pursued a contract AS9100 auditor position with PRI (a registrar like DNV), with the goal of working about two weeks a month and spending the rest of my time reading, writing, drawing, traveling—all the things I promised myself I would do when I finally had the time. I passed all of PRI’s tests and was ready to join them in September. Then fate intervened. 

Out of the blue, a recruiter for a different registrar called TUV contacted me just before Labor Day and asked me if I would consider interviewing for a full-time auditing position with them. I briefly recounted how DNV had burned out its full-timers by making them audit all week, then travel, write reports, manage findings, and prepare for the next audit on weekends, all while our laundry was spinning. The recruiter assured me that TUV was not that way—that they did not want to burn out their auditors and watch them leave! He persuaded me to talk to their hiring manager, which I agreed to do on the Friday before Labor Day. 

Meanwhile, PRI, which still believed I would be joining them as soon as I resolved my Kurt situation and departed Cristek, informed me that I probably wouldn’t get two audits a month in the beginning, since auditors tend to hold onto their clients as long as they can. So, here I was sitting in a big empty house, with no rental income and no desire to find another tenant. Without at least two audits a month, I would need to consider moving, which I was not yet ready to do. 

I spoke with TUV’s hiring manager on the Friday before Labor Day and she convinced me that they value work-life balance. They’re promising no more than 13 audit days in a 4-week month, and occasional weeks working at home as a technical reviewer for other auditors’ reports. We had a lively conversation, and I hung up feeling like we could come to terms. On Tuesday, the day after Labor Day, the recruiter phoned to inform me that TUV was prepared to make an offer. I have never received an offer so quickly—DNV took 5 months!—so understandably I had some questions. We hashed it out over the next two days, and by Thursday I signed TUV’s offer letter, which will pay me considerably more than Cristek ever did. 

So in the span of one week, I accepted an offer from a company that wasn’t even on my radar, enabling me to stay in my house but offering me the flexibility to live wherever I want, should I decide to move, since I will either be traveling to an audit site or working from home. 

I asked to start on October 14, since I needed some time to detox from Cristek. They agreed, then came back and asked if I could possibly finish the onboarding paperwork in time to start on October 7, since the 14th was a holiday for them—Columbus Day, which I’ve never had off before. So I agreed. 

A sure sign that I travel too much

However, I was never really onboarded on October 7, because my manager was evacuating her home in Florida due to Hurricane Milton, and I was pawned off on substitute teachers who mostly told me to “play around” in their systems instead of teaching me how to use them. 

The next day I boarded a plane to Denver to be a team member on an audit in Berthoud CO. The client hated the lead auditor, but pulled me aside to tell me they liked my approach and wanted me back next year—but not him. 

The next week I was the “acting lead” on an audit in Grand Rapids and was witnessed—remotely—by the actual lead, who hated me. Fortunately I don’t think he ever completed the required evaluation form, and the hiring manager waved her magic wand and declared me a lead auditor—which was preordained because I was already scheduled to lead my next several audits. 

It turns out there’s a reason TUV acted so quickly when they offered me a fulltime job. I soon discovered that they are woefully behind on their aerospace audits and have been pissing off their clients left and right by failing to schedule them. 

Since then I’ve been leading audits with less than a week to prepare, with some of them due way back in April. Besides Berthoud and Grand Rapids, I’ve now been to Rockford IL, Dayton OH, Rochester NY, Sumas WA (near Vancouver), and Marion IA (near Cedar Rapids). One of my new clients called me a breath of fresh air; another called mine the most memorable audit he’s ever had. I’m beginning to suspect that my predecessors set the bar awfully low. 

In October I squeezed in an appearance at New York Comic Con, and caught “Stereophonic,” 2024’s Tony-winning Best Play, with my old friend Giulia Hamacher. 

Thanksgiving came and went. My neighbor Sharon invited me to Thanksgiving dinner at her house. I brought wine. I had a delightful time with her extended family and friends, and was invited back the next afternoon for leftovers. 

On the Saturday after Thanksgiving I headed down to Manhattan for two more musicals, “Death Becomes Her” (hilarious) and “The Outsiders” (uninspired), before flying off to Seattle for my next audit. 

I will wind down the year with a local audit in Westfield MA before I leave for Vienna, where I will spend Christmas, followed by Bratislava, where I will ring in the New Year. While I’m gone, I will contemplate when in God’s name I’m ever going to retire—and start doing all the things I promised myself I would do when I finally had the time.

Look what bloomed while I was away.

Happy Holidays from my house to yours!

The Final Word - 2023

Dear Friends,

This has been a year of loss and rebirth. I lost my beloved mother in January at the age of 96, and my cats Nora and Neely in May and November, respectively. At least they all enjoyed long, joyful lives. And, having relocated from Southern California to the Boston area two years ago, I was able to drive to Pennsylvania for my mother’s funeral. 

RIP Gladys Krell, age 96

Meanwhile, this year I re-established my publishing business in my adoptive home of Haverhill MA, and finally published “Arena Takes Manhattan,” a spinoff of my main “Jayson” series starring Jayson’s roommate Arena Stage – my tenth graphic novel and my first in ten years. 

With the help of the Haverhill Museum of Printing, where I am a member, I located a printer in Lowell to produce the book. With publication slated for April 1, I listed the book for pre-sale on Amazon, and pre-orders were so robust that I tripled the press run for the first edition. The book arrived on March 17 and I have been filling orders ever since. 

At last, Arena Takes Manhattan

I launched my “Arena tour” in support of the new book on April 1 at Lehigh Valley Comic Con, close to where I grew up dreaming of someday working in comics. I even headlined a solo panel called “From Lehighton to Manhattan… and Back,” which my brother Tom and his girlfriend Rebecca were gracious enough to attend. That day the local paper, the Times News of Lehighton, profiled me on page 1 of their Spotlight section. Despite the usual errors and omissions, it was a positive take on my career in comics (thus far). 

On April 22-23, I tabled at Wicked Comic Con Boston, with special guest Joy Jartman, sister of Andrea Jartman, who inspired the Arena Stage character. It was Joy’s first convention, and she quickly got into the spirit. The convention was well run and sales were brisk, especially on Saturday.

Having a “Wicked” time with Joy Jartman

When it was announced that “New York, New York,” the 1977 movie starring Robert DeNiro and Liza Minnelli and featuring original music by Kander & Ebb, was being turned into a Broadway musical, I was immediately interested. When it was announced that the arresting Colton Ryan was cast in the DeNiro role, I immediately bought my seat for the Friday, May 11 performance and planned to spend the weekend in Manhattan. 

I booked 2nd row center, which is awfully close, which turned out to be perfect. In the final scene, Jimmy and Francine finally stop fighting long enough to agree that she will front his jazz trio as their girl singer. We know the big number is coming, but what we don’t expect is for the entire orchestra to hydraulically rise out of the pit and integrate with the band on stage – with Francine and Jimmy performing directly above me! I sat THIS CLOSE to Colton Ryan. What a finale!

On Saturday, my old friend Giulia Hamacher invited me to a matinee of “White Girls In Danger,” the new off-Broadway show by last year’s Tony winner for “A Strange Loop,” which Giulia and I saw last October. The premise is a fictional soap opera set in the town of Allwhite, where the black characters are relegated to the background (or “blackground,” as they call it) and never get their own stories. With a serial killer loose and threatening to kill all the cool (white) girls in town, a young black girl yearning to break free from the blackground and claim the spotlight needs to first get the serial killer’s attention. 

As I posted my adventures on Facebook, my former co-worker Jeff Maddocks took notice. He moved to Chicago decades ago, but he was coincidentally in Manhattan with his wife Steph for their anniversary. He reached out via Messenger to see if we could meet. All that I had left was Sunday morning, so I made reservations for brunch – which proved difficult since it was Mother’s Day. We ended up at Peachy Keen, a ’70s-themed restaurant that played ’70s TV shows and music wall to wall. It was a fun time and great to catch up with Jeff & Steph. 

I soon learned that my application to the New Hope Vendor Fair on Saturday, May 20 was accepted. The weather forecast looked threatening, but at the last minute the forecast turned from rain to clouds, so I decided to chance it. In fact it ended up raining hard most of the day, but that didn’t deter the crowds from showing up or from buying. I sold more books in 5 hours than I usually sell in 2 days! 

Sadly, while I was in New Hope, my older cat Nora became ill. Kurt informed me that she had grown listless and was not eating or drinking. I rushed home right after the fair, took one look at her and rushed her to the emergency room. They ran a blood test, gave her an infusion, and gave me medicines to administer at home. She seemed to perk up for a day or two, but the end was obviously near. Nora died peacefully on May 24. RIP Nora Scott-Krell, age 18.

Taking spring cleaning to heart, but having no time to actually do it, in May I hired a cleaning company called 46 Cleaners to give my house its first real cleaning since I moved in two years ago. When the van pulled up, it read “46 Cleaning & Construction.” Diogenes and his wife Josie did a great job on the cleaning. More importantly, when I bought the house, the two main floors were move-in ready, but the basement and the attic were unfinished. So I had them start with the most urgent matter, which was replacing the window in the unfinished basement with a door, for the safety and convenience of being able to exit to the back yard without having to open the garage door. 

Basement wall – before

Basement wall – after

After succeeding with the door, I offered them the rest of the basement to finish – which turned out beautifully. As they were finishing up that project, I showed them the attic. On one side, the previous owners had started but abandoned a project to turn it into a livable space. The other side offered bare studs and insulation. It was this side that I decided to turn into a new, larger bedroom for my tenant Kurt, while on the semi-finished side I would add shelves for storage, with flooring throughout. 

Attic wall – before

Attic wall – after

My next scheduled appearance was at San Diego Comic-Con on July 19-23. I arrived right on time; unfortunately my bag did not. I did without my clothing and my promotional materials for two full days, before my bag, which went missing in Newark, finally resurfaced. This is why I try to avoid connecting flights, and why in the future I will avoid Newark at all cost. 

That said, the ongoing writers’ and actors’ strikes meant that many of San Diego’s big panels were cancelled, or they soldiered on without their main attractions, which was actually a boon for those of us who create and sell comics. 120,000 attendees had already bought their badges and made the trek to San Diego, so with nothing else to do, many of them wandered over to our booths and rediscovered comics! Since Prism Comics did all the advance work, my books were already on the premises. All I had to do was show up, even if my clothes were a bit musty, and launch into my pitch. As a result, I sold well and won a few new fans. And by Day 3 I even got to wear the new shirt I had packed for the occasion. 

When I returned home without incident, I started preparing for Fan Expo Boston. They had offered me a panel on LGBT creators, but had not offered me any booth space. I refused to moderate the panel without the booth. At the 11th hour the relented and offered me a free table. I sold well on Saturday, far less so on Sunday. The panel, which included Jarrett Melendez (Chef’s Kiss) and Steve Orlando (Wonder Woman et al.), was well attended and well received, which made the weekend worthwhile.

Next I appeared at the Haverhill Museum of Printing to speak about what I learned while self-publishing a graphic novel. I offered lots of stories and more than a few cautionary tales! 

Lecturing at the Haverhill Museum of Printing

On September 21, my hero Barry Manilow broke Elvis Presley’s record for the most performances at the International Theater at the Westgate (formerly the Las Vegas Hilton) – 637 and counting. Of course I went to cheer him on. And of course I got a photo with him afterwards!

Hanging with Mr. Manilow

I always attend New York Comic Con, but this year I applied for the first time for a table in Artist Alley. By the time I learned that I didn’t make the cut, it was too late to buy a 4-day pass to the Con; so I settled for Friday and Sunday, affording me plenty of time for Broadway shows. I saw “Merrily We Roll Along” and “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.” I found the former to be overrated and the latter to be so tedious that I walked out at intermission. 

But at the Con, after making the rounds in Artist Alley and the main floor, I visited the Pride Lounge sponsored by GeeksOUT, a promoter of LGBT creators. No sooner had I sat down to enjoy a creators’ panel when the person in charge recognized me and offered me space at the table in the back of the lounge. I hadn’t brought a lot of books with me, since I was floating and didn’t expect to set up shop, but I put out what I had and I sold it all. 

Next thing I knew, it was Halloween. I thought I was better prepared this year, having prepped 56 bags each containing a comic book, a set of Pokemon cards, and some candy; plus a plastic pumpkin filled with candy to handle any overflow. Last year, you may recall, I prepared 35 bags and ran out after 40 minutes. This year, I ran out after all of 45 minutes! And like last year, I turned out the lights and drew the curtains for remainder of the two-hour event. Afterwards, I went on eBay and found a set of 75 gently used Archie Digests for a reasonable price, which I purchased for use next year. Hopefully that will be enough! After all, I am now known throughout the neighborhood as the guy who hands out comic books. 

In early November, my remaining cat Neely became blind and disoriented, stopped eating and wouldn’t stop drinking water. Turns out she was suffering from Stage 4 kidney disease—she was at Stage 2 in May, and for years before—and she passed on November 18. RIP Neely Scott-Krell, age 17. 

This year I wanted Thanksgiving to be as stress-free as possible, so I ordered a complete, pre-cooked dinner from Market Basket, picked it up Wednesday night, left it in the garage overnight, and reheated it on Thursday afternoon. Then Kurt and I watched the Barbie movie and started season 2 of The White Lotus. This approach proved so efficient that I even found time to put up the Christmas lights that day. 

Over the Christmas break, I will heading back to Broadway, to see Barry Manilow’s long-gestating original musical “Harmony,” which has finally transferred to the Great White Way; and “Little Shop of Horrors,” which may or may not still be starring Corbin Bleu by the time I get there. As always, I’m sure Manhattan will prove to be magical. 

Happy Holidays from my house to yours!

Sadly, as this year’s Final Word was going to press, I learned that Sue Bielenberg, my talented artistic collaborator on “Arena Takes Manhattan,” passed away suddenly on December 5. The losses have certainly been piling up this year. So please, this holiday season and always, remember to choose kindness.

Love, Jeff

Arena Stage takes Manhattan by Storm

After being left at the altar, Arena moves to New York for a fresh start in the long-awaited, utterly original graphic novel “Arena Takes Manhattan.” Arena moves in with her sister Meryl and joins her family’s ad agency, Stage One – and hilarity ensues. Find out what happens when Arena dates her client ... runs a focus group ... stars in a TV commercial ... and adjusts to living with her sister. 

A spinoff from Jeff Krell’s flagship “Jayson” series, “Arena Takes Manhattan” is an (almost) all-ages career-girl humor comic in the vein of “Millie the Model” and “Katy Keene” – but with contemporary settings and humor. 

Fittingly, “Arena Takes Manhattan” opens with a tribute to Krell’s real-life gal pal who inspired the unforgettable character of Arena Stage, and concludes with scene-stealing bonus features from Arena’s years with Jayson.

Krell was thrilled to collaborate on the art for this book with animator Sue Bielenberg. “Sue took my very basic template for the series to a whole new level,” Krell exclaims. “She added interesting business throughout, and brought a flair for fashion that I simply don’t possess,” he laughed. In fact, Krell hopes they get the chance to continue the series, so they can bring pin-ups and paper dolls back to comics. 

“Arena Takes Manhattan” (80 pp., $14.95) is available at select bookstores, comics shops, and Amazon.com. For more information, visit http://ignite-ent.com.

The Final Word - 2022

 

As the adage goes, “You don’t own property – it owns you.” After six months of relative peace, in January the smoke detectors in my house started chirping, and no amount of battery replacements and system resets would improve the situation. I resorted to sleeping in a hotel room until I could bring in an electrician who informed me that some First Alert smoke detectors manufactured in 2019 were defective and subject to recall. He recommended a different brand with a lithium battery that only needs to be replaced every ten years. He replaced two of the units that seemed to be the source of the chirping. All was well for about three weeks, until the chirping started again. So I called the electrician back to replace the entire system with lithium units, and put it under lifetime warranty. I have always hated smoke detectors and wish we could rescind the law that requires them. If there’s a fire in the house, believe me, I don’t need a smoke detector to tell me. 

No sooner had I resolved this issue when the garage door on Kurt’s side refused to open – or rather, it opened about a foot and then it just churned. I was able to lift it manually, so Kurt was able to back out of the garage. Fortunately, the previous owners of my house left me a lot of clues about who installed what. My garage doors were installed by Sears in 1999, when the house was built, and by some miracle the service number on the garage wall still worked – even if it did route me to an Indian call center. The repair went smoothly, and I asked the technician to service both doors while he was there. He reported that they were in remarkably good shape for their age. 

Kurt started working at Market Basket, a large local supermarket chain, in February. He was first assigned to the deli counter, which didn’t work out, but he got transferred to front operations, wrangling carts from the parking lot and occasionally bagging groceries. He started at three days a week and has worked his way up to five, and has managed to hold onto this job for nearly a year now. 

Meanwhile at Cristek, due to a delay in the implementation of new contracts, half my Quality staff was let go in March. This reduced my staff from six to three, and accounted for the bulk of the cuts, sending a chilling signal regarding the value Cristek places on Quality. Nine months later, we have still not rebounded, and with another change in ownership, from HSG to Qnnect, the next few months will be crucial to Cristek’s fate.

 Luckily I have other things to keep me busy. In April I recruited a talented cartoonist named Sue Bielenberg to help me finish my long-gestating graphic novel, “Arena Takes Manhattan.” Sue took the reins, lending fashion and flair to my career girl humor comic, earning a cover credit along the way. Together we put the last pages to bed in October, with plans to publish in January. 

I survived my first New England winter, having maintained the household temperature at 60°F for months, due to rising natural gas prices. We wore a lot of layers. The snowfalls were gorgeous and not nearly as paralyzing as people here make them out to be. My driveway slopes downward to the garage, but only once can I recall needing a push to reach the street. 

When spring finally sprung, Kurt wanted to plant a garden in my back yard, which I forbade. I agreed instead to buy two long wooden planters for the deck, which Kurt tended over the summer. 

In July I attended my first Cambodian wedding. Most of Cristek’s employees are Cambodian-Americans, so it was inevitable that one would eventually get married. It was an hours-long affair with seven costume changes for the bride over a multi-course dinner. The reception ostensibly started at 6pm, but I was warned not to arrive until 7. I arrived at 6 anyway, which enabled me to choose the best table and hold it for my work team. When I left at 10pm, they had just started dancing – way past my bedtime. 

In early August my street was repaved, and the next day I had my driveway repaved and widened. At the same time I had the contractor rip up the sad, narrow path from the driveway to my front door, widen it and replace it with welcoming stone. This has greatly improved the curb appeal of the house, and makes getting in and out a bit easier.

In September, Cristek’s third-party AS9100 audit took place, quickly followed by two customer audits – all resulting in 0 findings, a measure of the success I’ve achieved since becoming Cristek’s Quality Manager last May. In November I attended a 4-day training class and passed the exam to become a certified Lead Auditor to yet another standard, ISO 13485: Medical Devices. 

Last year I was startled to discover that Halloween is huge around here. Maybe it’s the proximity to Salem, where the witch trials took place and where ghost tours are still a thing, but people go all out – decorating their yards, throwing lavish parties, and trick-or-treating galore. This year I tried to be better prepared. I bought a costume at Spirit Halloween; I located – on the eighth attempt – a comic book shop that carried all seven titles published this year under the “Trick or Read” banner, and that agreed to give me five of each; and I visited the City of Haverhill website to confirm that our official trick-or-treating slot was Saturday from 5 to 7pm. I prepared 35 bags filled with comics and candy, donned my new Steampunk costume a good half hour in advance, turned on the front porch light, and dispensed my first bag at 5:02pm to a tiny girl who leapt across the front yard to her waiting mother, beaming, “I got a comic book!” 

I was off to a good start. Too good, as it turned out. By 5:40pm I had dispensed all 35 bags plus all the backup candy I had poured into a plastic pumpkin, with more kids still heading my way. I had no choice but to turn off the porch light, draw the curtains, and head out to the party my friends in Lynn were throwing, which I told them I wouldn’t arrive at until at least 8pm, because I thought I’d be dispensing candy until at least 7. 

In November, after many false starts, I finally met up with Joy Jartman, sister of the late Andrea Jartman, who inspired “Arena Stage,” and presented her with a bound copy of the galleys for “Arena Takes Manhattan.” She couldn’t wait to dive in, and promptly reported how much she liked the book. I can’t wait to share it with the world next year.  

Andrea Jartman, Tim Gallagher, me, Joy Jartman

This year I kept Thanksgiving simple: I ordered a fully prepared meal from one of my favorite local restaurants, the Periwinkle Cafe, which was delivered on Tuesday for reheating on Thursday. On Thanksgiving morning, while the Macy’s parade played in the background, I constructed new shelves for the upstairs hallway. Then I took Kurt to see an early matinee of Disney’s new animated film “Strange World.” Then we came home and I heated up our dinner, which we enjoyed while watching “Some Like It Hot” on DVD. 

Now that the pandemic restrictions are largely behind us and live theatre is rebounding, I started subscribing to our local Merrimack Repertory Theatre in Lowell, MA. So far I’ve seen “The 39 Steps” and “Macbeth,” with “A Christmas Carol” still to come on December 14. For this one I bought a block of discounted tickets and convinced some of my co-workers to join me. 

As my second New England winter approaches, home heating costs have shot through the roof, thanks to Putin’s senseless war against Ukraine and other economic pressures. I’ve now set the home thermostats to 55°F, bought dramatic floor-to-ceiling curtains for my bedroom to keep out the cold, and stocked up on turtlenecks at Kohl’s. It’s a small sacrifice to make when compared to the hardships my European friends are facing. 

Stay warm this holiday season.

The Final Word - 2021

For the past five years, I have been conducting Quality Management System audits in the aerospace sector for a company called DNV. In the best of times, it’s a demanding job with frequent travel, long hours, and short weekends. The past two years have been especially challenging, given the worldwide pandemic and DNV’s overnight transition to conducting remote audits. Because of travel restrictions, we lost most of our billable travel time, and DNV informed us that if we had more than 4 hours of non-billable time in a week, we would need to use Personal Time Off – or take on an approved “project.” What DNV has never understood is the amount of time it takes on the front end to prepare for an audit, and on the back end to manage findings to closure – if they’re done right. Consequently, fulltime auditors work 7 days a week while DNV gripes that we have too much free time – because they don’t see it in our timecards – by design.

But I soldiered on, taking on special projects like editing and proofreading the Aerospace Auditors’ Handbook; hosting the popular webinar, “Root Cause and Corrective Action: First Pass Success”; and mentoring the new class of Aerospace Auditors In Training – all of which should have been the job of Chuck, my useless Manager. In addition, I passed my ANAB Witness Audit with zero findings and a raft of accolades. Given all that, when Chuck conducted my annual performance review from his home office in a ratty t-shirt with seemingly no preparation, he acknowledged none of my accomplishments, mumbled something about how “they” raised the bar on us, and gave me an Average rating. I decided then and there that it was time to leave DNV. 

Then all hell broke loose. My former manager Ronda, her manager Sherif, and Chuck’s manager Marta all called to try to talk me out of leaving. It was flattering, but none of them committed to getting rid of Chuck, offering timecard relief, or advancing my career. So I stood firm. Then my clients started calling. And emailing. And texting. They had all started receiving notifications from Scheduling that I would not be conducting their future audits, and they wanted to know why. The outpouring of appreciation was gratifying. Several of them even offered to hire me as a consultant.

But Cristek Interconnects, a Boston-area manufacturer of aerospace cables and harnesses, went a step further – inviting me to join them as their fulltime Quality Manager. I had audited Cristek several times in the past, starting in 2018, when I wrote major findings against issues that no one else had uncovered. They were upset at first, but by the time the audit was over, they were thanking me for helping them to find and fix real problems. I set them on an improvement path that led to their decision, in 2020, to relocate from a rotting warehouse in Lowell to a gleaming new space in North Billerica. When I performed their Special Audit in January to certify their relocation, I was impressed with the new space – and I could envision myself in one of their empty offices.

After a couple of Teams meetings with the General Manager and the President, they quickly made an offer, which I just as quickly accepted. Suddenly I had just four weeks to orchestrate a cross-country move for myself, my two cats, and Kurt, who decided to join me on this adventure. 

I hired the same moving company that had handled several of my past local moves. Turns out they were hopelessly unqualified to handle a long-distance move. They arrived late in a truck that was too small and not certified for long-distance moves, which they discovered halfway through the day. After a series of escalating negotiations, they decided to transfer all the items into a new, certified truck the following morning, before attaching my car to an auto transport to drag it across the country. So we lost a day to poor planning, and the cats sat in their cages for 12 hours, before we finally checked into a pet-friendly hotel, which if nothing else proved an excellent test of their resilience, plus the value of Gabapentin.

The cats and I were scheduled to fly on Alaska Airlines from San Diego to Boston on Thursday, April 22, with Kurt driving us to the airport before embarking on his own cross-country drive. In the meantime, we had a few more things to accomplish. Tuesday morning at 9am, I needed to deliver my car to the movers who were busy transferring all my items to a certified truck. By 9:15 I needed to be at the condo to let in the cleaning crew to ready the condo for sale. By 9:45 I needed to be at CVS for yet another COVID-19 test, because Massachusetts required a 10-day self-quarantine upon arrival, unless you could show a negative COVID result within 72 hours of arrival. 

On Wednesday at 9am we got our hair cut one last time from our favorite stylist, then at 10am we met the realtor at the condo to hand over the keys and clickers and to allow him to take photos for the listing, which was scheduled to go live on Thursday. We took the opportunity to clean the garage, which the cleaning crew did not touch because it was had been stuffed with leftover items until near the end of the day. In the process we bumped one of the sensors, causing the garage door opener to fail – because we couldn’t have enough things going wrong! The realtor agreed to fix it, as we did not have time.

On Thursday morning we rose at 4am to tranquilize the cats and head to San Diego airport. The part I was most nervous about, meeting all the requirements to place the cats successfully onto the plane, turned out to be a breeze. Alaska Airlines personnel were great and made the process seamless and pleasant. Nora traveled in the cargo hold and Neely sat under the seat in front of me. The only problem I encountered was at Security, when I placed Neely’s carrier onto the conveyor belt, as prescribed, and carried her through the scanner, which promptly went off. Since I always use TSA PreCheck, I do not normally need to remove my jacket, belt, or shoes. But TSA asked me to remove my jacket and belt before passing through the scanner again. Imagine trying to do that while holding a cat! It wasn’t easy, but I succeeded in passing the screening on my third attempt. I promptly shoved Neely back into her carrier and raced off to gate, leaving my belt behind – a small sacrifice to keep this process moving. 

The flight was uneventful and, due to tailwinds, ended a half hour earlier than scheduled, a godsend. I collected my bags, located Nora outside the Oversized Baggage door, and made contact with a Cristek employee who volunteered to pick us up and drive us to the car rental counter – saving me the trouble of loading two cat carriers and all my travel bags on to a shuttle bus. I drove the rental car to a pet-friendly hotel in Waltham, about halfway between Boston and Billerica, to wait for the arrival of my furniture and car. 

On Friday morning I drove up to Billerica to receive the keys from the rental office and to tour my new apartment for the first time. It was breathtaking! I took a six-month lease, to give me sufficient time to settle into my new job and hunt for a house. Then I met with a local realtor, who informed me that housing inventory was at historic lows due to COVID and other factors, as people were fleeing cities like Boston to the relative space of suburbs, and suburbanites were sheltering in place with no intention of moving. Horror stories abounded of buyers offering $100K above asking price, waiving inspection – and still losing out on properties they loved. 

Then I met with an insurance broker to initiate the process of transferring my driver’s license, auto insurance and registration from California to Massachusetts. The helpful broker completed all the necessary forms for me and scheduled an appearance at the Lawrence Registry of Motor Vehicles (RMV) for the following Thursday at 10:30am. Then I bought a new belt at Burlington Coat Factory. 

On Sunday morning, the day the movers promised to arrive, I drove up early from the Waltham hotel to the Billerica apartment. And waited. And waited. I slept on the carpet while I waited. Finally the lead mover texted me that they would arrive at 1:30pm. They did not actually arrive until 3:00pm. And when they did, my car looked like it had been through a mud bath. The unload dragged on until 1:00am. The poor cats must have felt abandoned! 

On Monday morning I checked out of the Waltham hotel, moved the cats into the Billerica apartment, returned the rental car to the Waltham Enterprise location, and took an Uber back to Billerica. Then I began the long, methodical, occasionally painful process of unpacking and arranging just enough stuff to function. The entire dining room remained filled with boxes that would not be opened until I moved again, to a house. That evening, Kurt arrived from his cross-country drive, and I got him situated.

On May 3rd, I started my new job as the Quality Manager for Cristek Interconnects – Massachusetts Division. I hit the ground running, as so much had been neglected or delayed without a Quality Manager in place. I have a staff of six, responsible for Inspection, Test, Material Review Board, and First Article Inspection reports. I am directly responsible for Internal Audits, Nonconforming Material Reports, Root Cause Corrective Action, and Quality Management System improvements. I have my own office and parking space, luxuries not afforded to me by either DNV or Boeing. From the start I felt welcome and needed. 

Meanwhile, there were 35 showings of my Murrieta condo, resulting in five offers, four of them above asking. We accepted the highest offer, which conveniently came with no contingencies. While I waited for sale to go through, I started house hunting. I figured that the further north of Boston I went, the better my odds. I worked my way north to the charming town of Haverhill, near the New Hampshire border, where I discovered a lovingly renovated 3-bedroom Colonial with a deck, a finished basement, and a partially finished attic. The seller did not want to close until the end of July, because she was not yet ready to move out. This was a sticking point for some of the other bidders, but not for me! I had just survived the move from hell, so I was happy to chill for a few months while I settled into my job, tied up my remaining loose ends, and planned my next move at a sensible pace. I ended up winning this bid without waiving any contingencies, and took ownership on July 26. 

The move from the Billerica apartment to the Haverhill house went much more smoothly – although it threatened to go south before sunrise, as the 20-foot truck I rented from U-Haul, and confirmed twice, was not available when I went to pick it up. I settled for a 15-foot truck, which meant making three trips back and forth instead of two, adding time and cost to the move. But we got it done thanks to a competent team of movers and Kurt at the wheel. Despite heading into rush hour traffic on the third and final trip, we were able to complete the move in time to return the truck to U-Haul before 8pm. While Kurt returned the truck, the movers reassembled the beds and I started unboxing things. Six months later, I feel like I’m still unboxing things. But the house is mostly settled and I’m delighted with my purchase. 

Beyond work, I have rarely ventured out since moving into my house, due to lack of time and fear of COVID – even though I am fully vaccinated and always wear a mask. Every day during my commute to and from work, I listen to Boston’s local NPR station on the radio, where one day I learned that Haverhill has a Museum of Printing. It is only open on Saturdays, other than special events. A few years ago I visited the Druckmuseum in Mainz, Germany, so I was excited to visit our local museum. It did not disappoint. They have a vast collection, from the origin of the printing press and moveable type to the digital revolution and desktop publishing. I became a member and plan to attend their next special event on the history of phototypesetting in December.

About 90 miles north of Haverhill, Massachusetts is Haverhill, New Hampshire, the birthplace of Bob Montana, the artist who designed the Archie Comics characters and drew the Archie newspaper strip from 1946 until his death in 1975. In the neighboring town of Meredith, where Bob Montana lived for most of his productive years, an Archie statue has been erected in his honor. Kurt and I drove up there in the pouring rain to visit the statue and take some photos.

Halloween is big around here, due to the history of Salem and its role in the witch trials. We visited Salem in early October, before things got too crazy, and took a personalized ghost tour. On Halloween night we served up Ziploc bags filled with candy and comic books to the neighborhood kids, which was also my first opportunity to meet many of the neighbors. 

On October 13th my mother celebrated her 95th birthday. I could not attend in person due to COVID and time constraints, but my brothers took her out to lunch and texted me photos. 

While they were celebrating, I was busy preparing Cristek for its AS9100 Recertification audit, which occurs every three years. My knowledge of the AS9100 Standard and its application was a big reason Cristek wanted to hire me. So I’m relieved to report that we concluded our audit with zero findings, a first for the division. 

In November I hosted my first Thanksgiving dinner in my new dining room, a small affair catered by Hello Fresh and served on a folding table draped with a festive tablecloth. Yesterday I pulled my pencil tree out of the attic and stuck it in the front window. I contemplated buying a real tree this year, since I finally have the room for it. But due to supply chain issues, trees are scarce and needlessly expensive, along with heating oil and natural gas. This morning we woke up to our first dusting of snow. And so we are bundling up for the long winter ahead – we’re not in California anymore. 

The Final Word - 2020

 

This year started innocently enough with my company's annual training convention in Houston. After the convention I stuck around for a few extra days of "management development," in search of a promotion that has yet to materialize. I was still supporting Mayor Pete -- who went on to achieve TikTok fame as Slayer Pete after a series of epic takedowns on Fox News -- and the only Corona being imported was a second-rate Mexican beer. I was auditing in Seattle at the end of February when Patient Zero died there. I was auditing on the California-Mexico border in mid-March when the border closed and California issued its first Stay At Home order. Like many, my company didn't take the virus seriously at first; but that changed as reality set in, and they adjusted the operating rules to allow us to conduct audits 100% remotely -- which I've been doing since the end of March, through a combination of Zoom meetings, FaceTime interviews, and offsite document reviews. I venture out at 6am on Sunday mornings to do my weekly grocery shopping at Ralphs with the over-60 crowd; wear a mask and maintain social distance the way any sane person of any political persuasion should; and otherwise leave the house only to empty my mailbox, which began filling up more slowly this autumn in one of many White House gambits to prevent citizens from voting, or at least to make sure their votes didn't count -- which, when all the legally cast votes were tallied, failed as a campaign strategy. Through it all, I have managed to stay positive and remain negative. 

To buoy our spirits, 77-year-old Barry Manilow released "When the Good Times Come Again," a 30-year-old album track that rose to #12 on the Billboard AC Chart, scoring him a sixth decade on the pop charts and invitations to appear everywhere from Rosie O'Donnell to A Capitol Fourth -- all remotely, of course.

Neely & Nora

As my self-quarantine began, so did Nora's. My eldest cat, now 15, had been suffering from hyperthyroidism, which I was trying to counteract with medication, to no avail. The next recommended level of treatment was radioiodine exposure, which requires three weeks in isolation, which she endured in San Diego in April. Happily, the treatment was successful and Nora's veterinarian is pleased with her lab results.

DNV GL, the company I work for, is a Certification Body, which is accredited by an Accreditation Body, called ANAB. Put another way, auditors get audited. A lot. This year it was my turn, after three years as a fulltime aerospace auditor, to be subjected to an ANAB Witness Audit. Unlike past audits, however, this one was going to be conducted remotely due to COVID, adding an extra layer of difficulty. Luckily, this audit did not include production, which is the most difficult to conduct remotely, and I had visited this client last year, ironically as a Witness for one of DNV GL's new auditors who was the Acting Lead. My weeklong Witness Audit was very stressful, in part because the client's quality management system was in worse shape than I had anticipated, so I kept finding things that I had to write up, despite the remarkable patience they were demonstrating. I have never worked so hard in my life! My reward, in the end, was that my Witness wrote zero findings, a fact that will not be lost during my next performance evaluation. 

My Witness Audit landed on my birthday, so between that and COVID and other nonsense, I did not get to celebrate my 61st birthday until two weeks later, when my housemate Kurt treated me to lunch at the Ponte Winery Restaurant in Temecula, which has remained open due to its outdoor seating arrangements. 

Arena Stage

Autumn was consumed with the election and COVID, about which too much ink has already been spilled. Before we knew it, Thanksgiving was upon us, and with it my first week off since the pandemic began. This break allowed me to finally make headway on my next graphic novel, "Arena Takes Manhattan," a spinoff of my main Jayson strip starring his roommate Arena Stage, which is now completely written, half drawn, and full storyboarded. Needless to say, there have been no in-person comic book conventions this year. But with a vaccine on the horizon, hope springs eternal that conventions will return in 2021, when I plan to debut this long-gestating tribute to career girl comics and to the woman who inspired Arena: the late, great, Andrea Jartman.

Andrea Jartman circa 1983

Please stay safe while you enjoy the Holiday Season. 

Sex and the City 3: Bringing Down the House

Thanks to COVID-19, I have now re-watched the entire 6-season run of HBO’s “Sex and the City,” plus the two movies that continue the story. The series still holds up, for the most part, although the second movie gets a little wobbly.

For years now, there’s been talk of a third movie, and everyone seems to be on board – everyone, that is, except Kim Cattrall, a.k.a. Samantha Jones. She has stated emphatically and at great length, to anyone who will listen, that she has no interest in reprising her role, largely due to her strained relationship with Sarah Jessica Parker, a.k.a. Carrie Bradshaw. When pressed, Cattrall will only offer that she wishes SJP had been “nicer.” Really? Anyone who has worked with SJP will tell you that she is one of the nicest and hardest working people in show business. Anyone who has worked with Cattrall – not so much.

Which brings us to the third movie, which needs to get off the ground before COVID-19 kills us all. Luckily, I have the solution. Fade in:

“Sex and the City 3” opens with an over-the-credits montage in which each of the returning characters receives an invitation from Samantha Jones Public Relations, promoting an open-air event to raise money for Habitat for Humanity. Cut to the dawn of the event, with minions scurrying around putting the final touches on the reception, whose centerpiece is a pasteboard house. As our lead characters enter the scene, a gale-force wind begins to blow, sending hats and skirts, brochures and cocktails flying. The house teeters and crashes onto its side. The wind abates. Guests start flocking to the upended house and buzzing about what they see. Reveal a pair of stylish red shoes, with a pair of feet still in them. As the lead characters make their way to the scene, an off-screen voice shrieks, “WHO KILLED MY SISTER?!!” Reveal Serena Jones, Samantha’s never-before-mentioned sister, as the final credit rolls: AND INTRODUCING JEAN SMART AS SERENA JONES.

You’re welcome, Sex fans.