Im no tree hugger, but...
I just couldn't do it.
We ordered pizza for dinner last night, and the delivery gal came to the back deck. As my wife was paying for it (my job when the delivery people come is to tackle the dog), the delivery gal said, "nice spider."
My wife looked where she was pointing and then screamed at the top of her lungs. Next to the sliding door was a HUGE garden spider. Sans legs, it must have been the diameter of a quarter. As the Pizza car drove madly away, she hysterically demanded I go out and kill it.
I am not afraid of spiders at all, and I have squished more than my fair share (there are indeed an inordinate number of spiders this year it seems), but this one was so big it just didn't seem right. If it lived long enough to get to that size, I would have felt guilty to snuff it just because my wife was having a heart attack.
I took two styrofoam cups and trapped it, then I carried it out to the shrubs away from the house (ignoring Dolores's screams of "FARTHER OUT!! FARTHER OUT!!") and let it go. It probably only has a few more weeks of life left anyways, but I felt a bit of satisfaction at the fact I managed not to kill it.
I must be getting old if a wee critter like a spider is now able to evoke sympathy from me.
In any event, I took picture of the beastie (above) before I let it go.
I guess introductions are in order
This "about me" stuff is the most awkward part of putting together a personal website. How much do you as the reader want to know? How much do you need to know? At what point does it go from helpful background information to babble? Do I talk about myself in the third person like an omniscient narrator of my own life?
"Rich Lane is an English teacher in a small town in Northwest Pennsylvania. "
That just feels weird to me. There's an aura of pompousness there I'm not comfortable with. So do I abandon the illusion of a narrator and talk about myself in the first person? Seems more natural, but there's the potential to try to get too clever and become enamored to the sound my own "voice." Still of the two choices, I guess I'll go with natural.
Hi.
My name is Richard R. Lane. You can call me Rich or even "Ricardo" (my wife's name for me) if you like. I answer to both. Don't ask me my middle name. I won't tell you until I get to know you better.
I'm in my mid-forties, and I teach high school English in Pennsylvania (didn't the omniscient narrator already say that?). I've been doing this for more than fifteen years now, and I enjoy it quite a bit despite the No Child Left Behind Act and it's efforts to thoroughly drain any kind of individual thought from education.
I was born and raised in PA, but I lived for most of the 80s in Albuquerque, NM, where I received a B.A. in Journalism from the University of New Mexico and met my wife Dolores. We moved back to Pennsylvania in 1989, and I picked up my teaching credentials from Edinboro University. Dolores and I have four kids, Dale, Linda, Patrick, and Kathleen, as well as a feisty Lhasa Apso named Scooberto Antonio Doo Lane.
Like many bloggers, I'm an aspiring writer. I did manage to check at least one thing off my "Things to do before I die" list a few years ago; I wrote professional for Wizard magazine for almost a year right before the bottom dropped out of the comics market and they had to cut all their freelancers. Currently I'm working on a comic book that I hope to pitch to publishers soon. As that's a big part of the reason for this blog, you'll probably be able to read quite a bit about the process here.
The title of this blog comes from my favorite poem, "Ulysses" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, specifically the lines:
I like that idea, the notion that as you get closer to what you are seeking, new vistas coax you out ever further. It's a good way to live your life, be it physically, intellectually or spiritually.I am part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
We need national health care for pets
Scoobert is feeling a bit anxious today. Tomorrow morning he goes in for surgery...again. It's not major, hopefully. He's got a big, black mole on his belly that bleeds if he catches it when he's scratching. The vet just wants to take it off as a precautionary measure. We love the little guy like a son, so of course we agreed. And, of course, it's going to cost us about $100 or more.
This is the second trip to the vet for something of this magnitude in 2008, and the third in the past full year. If it keeps him healthy and happy, I'm not complaining, but I sure wish I could put him on my health insurance as a dependent. It's barbaric that this country, the richest in the world, still has such vast number of its four-legged citizens that go without the basic security of health coverage. What does it say about us as a people when a family has to choose between surgery for their puppy and being able to afford new chew toys? And while we're at it, have you seen Scoobert's teeth? His lower jaw juts out a full half inch beyond his uppers. He looks like a hairy extra from Aliens vs. Predators.
Sure, we'd love to get him braces, but we just can't afford them now. This means that Scoobert must continue to live with being mocked by the neighborhood cats who I have heard call him "shovel jaw." Scoobert puts up a good front, but dammit...he's crying on the inside. I can just tell. Could I at least claim him on my taxes?
Pittsburgh Comicon 08
We just got back from Pittsburgh after a two day trek to the comicon held down in the Pittsburgh ExpoMart each year. Pat and I have been going for years, but this year Dolores said she'd go too as long a we spent the night. We stayed at the Radisson, which adjoins the convention center, making it awfully convenient.
My main reason for going these days is to meet up with the friends I've made over the years. For instance, inker Bob Almond and I have been corresponding for some time now, and he's given a great deal of help in trying to get my own comic going. Bob's the one who hooked me up with my penciler, and during the con, he took time to look over the finished pages I had and give some critiques and advice, and action that illustrates what a classy guy he really is. The most amusing moments for me during convention came when Bob had to run up to his room for a few minutes and asked me to watch his booth. Fans would wander up and stare at me for a moment with "I don't think that's him" look for a minute before I would tell them that Bob would right back. Pat dared me to sign some sketches for customers and see if they wandered away confused about why Bob Almond was signing things "Rich Lane." (Don't worry, Bob. I didn't.)
I also met up with Ian Ascher. Ian has been writing and publishing through Digital Webbing, and his current book with them is Iron Angels. I introduced Ian to the open source program Inkscape for lettering comics, and he in turn let me know about Celtx for writing a properly formatted screenplay. We've be corresponding for several years now, but we met for the first time in person at last year's convention. 
Ian didn't come alone this year. He was accompanied by two of the real life fitness models that he uses as the basis for the book. The ladies looked a bit bewildered by the goings on at the convention, but both were very obliging when it came to interacting with the fans.
Ian tried to get me to take a picture with them, but I figured Dolores might not like that, nor did I wish some like that getting into the hands of my students, so I declined. Pat though, had no qualms about it, as can be seen here with Sonia Adcock (left) and Adela Garcia.
When the convention wound down on Saturday, we once again had dinner with long time friend Bryan Glass. Bryan and I have been cyber-friends for more than a decade, going back to when his claim to fame was being sued by the Dupont Corporation over the names of his characters in his self-published book Spandex Tights. These days, Bryan's stock has really been on the rise due to the success of the book Mice Templar that he created along with Mike Oeming. Like Bob, Bryan has given me tons of invaluable advice and constructive criticism about my own work. After dinner, Pat and I ended up back at the hotel until after 11 discussing my work and getting previews of Bryan's upcoming projects. The advice he gave not only helped me; Pat was enthralled as well, as much of what we talked about also applied to his communications major.
Other highlights included meeting Aaron Douglas, Chief Tyrol on SciFi Channel's Battlestar Galactica. Mr. Douglas was extremely gracious and accepting of my geekish gushing, and when I mentioned it to Bryan, he said that Mr. Douglas was one of the most unassuming and unpretentious stars he'd ever met at a convention. Dolores and I also got to talk to Fat Momma from Who Wants to Be a Superhero? We actually bumped into her when she was ahead of us the roasted cinnamon pecan stand (which Dolores is now addicted to). She was also very pleasant and gracious. 
As for my stash, I've kind of lost interest in the dollar and quarter bins, but we got some good deals on trade paperbacks. Other than the books, it was kind of slim pickings this year, possibly due to the controversy surrounding the Pittsburgh Con. Pat was really looking for a decent, wearable reproduction of Hal Jordan's Green Lantern ring, but there was absolutely no jewelry vendors there this year. My biggest prizes, however, came from the sword dealer there. I picked up not one but two swords there for an incredible price. I got a Celtic sword and a medieval Excalibur-type broadsword for thirty five dollars each. That was about half what I've been able to find anywhere else for decent reproductions, and these are great 
quality.
One of the cool things about teaching British literature is that I can rationalize the expense of buying swords by saying, "Hey, I teach Beowulf and Le Morte D'Arthur." Finally, I want to thank my ever lovely and accommodating wife Dolores for not only putting up with me going into full blown geek mode for a weekend, but also for participating in it. This was the first convention she's gone to since we lived in Albuquerque twenty years ago, and she didn't bat an eye at the craziness. Heck she doesn't even mind posing with my toys so I can put the picture up on my blog. Look out, Red Sonja--here comes Brown Dolores.
And then, eighteen years later...
Eighteen years ago last Sunday, Dolores and I went to the hospital and within a few hours Dolores had squeezed out one of the cutest baby girls to ever grace the planet. Now Kathleen Carmelita Lane is old enough to vote in the presidential election.
These last few years, we've seen our share of grey hairs being parents to a beautiful young woman, but it's been well worth the stress and aggravation. In a few weeks, though, we'll see how much we love each other; she'll be in my senior English class. If we don't end up killing each other by October, I'll know we're over the hump.
Pictured here is Kathleen the last time she smiled in front of us voluntarily.