Another busy day, but I still managed to get outside for a bit to check out the new iris that popped this afternoon. It’s another one we picked up last year at Exline Iris Garden.

Its name is Betty Simon. And it’s one of my favorites.

For those sick of garden neepery, don’t worry—there’s only one more new variety to bloom. And then it will be back to our regularly scheduled program.

It’s gotten busy around here, so busy that I’m not shaving, and barely taking time away from the keyboard for meals. Yesterday, I even forgot to walk to the end of the driveway to check for mail! And for a writer not to check his mail … well, you know how busy that means I must be!

But I forced myself away from the computer for a few minutes to take a look at three new varieties of iris which bloomed today.

First up, Lime Fizz, which I bought last year at Exline Iris Garden.

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In response to repeated requests (OK—make that one request), here’s a column I wrote for The Comics Journal back in 1978. It was pointed out to me that though I posted the text of all of my mid-’80s TCJ Ethics columns here, I never shared my much earlier one-off which I’d called “Bullpen Bull.”

As you’ll see, I used to scribble down quips made by my fellow Bullpenners, and once I was no longer on staff, I decided to share my favorites.

My favorite from among my favorites? The day production manager John Verpoorten, bemoaning how late our books had become, walked into the Bullpen, towering over us all, and said, “I was just speaking to our printer. He was wondering if we were still in business.”

My grandfather, Nathan Goldstein, would be very ashamed of me right now. Were he alive, that is. Lucky for me, Grandpa Nat died more than 20 years ago.

Let me explain.

Irene and I got together last night with Karen and Charlie Newton, Sharon and Frank Patry, and Risa and Sandy Stewart at Charles Town Races and Slots for dinner and, well, what did you expect—racing!

Before heading to the track, I asked the person who knows more about racing than anyone I know—Barry Malzberg—for advice, and whether he wanted me to place any bets for him. The only thing he told me was—bet Jackson Bend to Show in the Preakness. Which I did.

I’ve never seen the local track as packed as it was last night. It’s as if every gambler within driving distance decided to turn up and wager. Once the Preakness started, and the crowd began screaming, all I could think was, “Where’s Grandpa Nat?”

My grandfather was a bookie, you see (I’ll tell you the whole story someday), and as I looked around at the shouting, the cursing, the veins popping on foreheads, I almost expected to see him there.

Jackson Bend ran third for most of the race, dropped back going into the final turn, and didn’t regain any ground by the time the broadcast cut off reporting on the standings. So I thought, “oh, well,” tucked the ticket into my pocket, and went off with my friends to have dinner before the local racing began. (Those of you who paid attention to who finished where in the Preakness already can tell where this is going.)

After a wonderful dinner, we returned to the track, where I actually won three of my bets on the local races. Here I am after I put $2.00 on Little Runner to Show in the third race. My $2.00 turned into a whopping $5.60.

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Two additional varieties of iris bloomed today. We don’t know the names of either of them, because, well, we didn’t buy them.

The first came into our possession because Irene was driving down the road several miles away here in Back Creek Valley, saw some blooming iris she liked, and stopped and asked whether she could come back and take a few rhizomes at the end of the season. She traded some of our purple iris in return, because that’s the neighborly thing to do.

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Shall we start the day with two more iris?

Why not?

The first of the two that popped this morning is from the haul I told you about yesterday that we made from our friend’s garden in Brooklyn. I have no idea of its name.

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Another new iris bloomed today. This wasn’t one we bought; instead, it’s one we inherited.

Some friends of ours in Brooklyn decided to get rid of all the iris from in front of their apartment, and so last summer—as we were on the way home from celebrating Marie Severin’s 80th birthday, I think—we dropped by to rip them out of the ground. (We also dropped by for dim sum, but that’s another story.)

We ended up with around 175 new rhizomes, of which this is the first to pop. For some reason the photo doesn’t capture it looking as purple as it is in real life, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.

More garden neepery, for those who can stand it.

Two more varieties of iris bloomed today, the first a veteran, the second one bought last year from Exline Iris Garden. Additional iris have been blooming, but as they’re duplicates of what you’ve already seen, there’s no need for me to show them to you again.

First, the returning iris. I have no idea of its name, but I’ll try to track it down.

Next, an iris we bought last year, which based on last year’s invoice, is called Shipshape. We should end up with 6-8 blooms from this one. (more…)

Irene snipped another 42 daffodils yesterday afternoon, for a total of 5,015 deadheaded blooms. Only one lonely daffodil remains in our garden, refusing to vacate the premises. For its tenacity, it deserves a place of honor. So here you have it.

Oh, last daffodil of Spring, we salute you!

You’ve all been so well behaved during my recent run of gardening neepery that I feel I owe you something special. So here—unseen as far as I know since it was first published 38 years ago—is Billy Graham’s take on the comics fan scene as printed in the program book for Phil Seuling’s 1972 July 4th weekend Comic Art Convention.

What’s that, you say?

No, of course I don’t mean that Billy Graham. I mean the other Billy Graham, the comic-book artist best known for drawing Luke Cage, Hero for Hire.

Give it a read and start getting in the mood for the San Diego Comic-Con, which is only—gulp!—10 1/2 weeks away!