January 5, 2015
CR Holiday Interview Series #3—Gil Roth
I met Gil Roth
in the mid-1990s though the Comics Journal
message board. He was one of the few people I'd ever met that understood my jokes comparing superhero excess to professional basketball. A New Jersey-based writer and editor, Roth briefly wrote for us at The Comics Journal
, and was for a time a prose publisher with a company he put together called Voyant Books
. His comics-related interests these days gets filtered through a podcast, Virtual Memories
is one of only a handful of audio efforts for which I'm a routine, regular customer. Although perhaps best described as a prose literary podcast, Gil interviews a number of cartoonists and comics-related folks. This year that included Seth
, Nina Bunjevac
, Mimi Pond
, Mary Fleener
, Caitlin McGurk
and Drew Friedman
Gil's interviews are impeccably recorded and edited, doubly impressive for someone for whom this is a hobby. The individual podcasts set a high bar, and they're a nice, steady showcase for a lot of different comics talent in part because of their specific focus. You listen to a bunch in a row, certain themes start to develop and you can compare and contrast the subjects' approach to different kinds of questions. Gil Roth is also by far the best-dressed comics industry journalist -- say what you want about that, but comics is an industry where someone that takes those elements of personal presentation seriously stands out.
Despite all that work with Virtual Memories
, Gil is one of my few comics-interested friends whose primary relationship to the medium is that of a reader of its best works, which I find immensely helpful when seeking out a view that's not a comics-insider one. He's a close friend, and I became interested enough in what he does with the podcast to want to spotlight that work and his opinions on some of his interview subjects. I was super-happy he agreed to speak to me. -- Tom Spurgeon
TOM SPURGEON: Gil, I don't know that I know exactly how you started reading or how that developed by the time I met you, in the mid 1990s. Are there certain titles, certain series for which you were particularly enthused? Are there touchstone comics for you? What kept you reading during that relatively fallow period when I met you, when a lot of people weren't reading comics at all between periods where there seemed to be more intense interest?
Oh, God, I was a Marvel
zombie in my childhood. We used to go to flea markets and HAM radio markets (HAMfests) and buy coverless comics in bulk. Lots of random Marvel stuff from the '60s and '70s. When I was like seven years old, I glommed onto the Claremont-Byrne X-Men
, and that's where I learned to write overlong narration and exposition. I also dug the Avengers
and the like, but I was totally into that run of the X-Men
, even though it ended when I was around 10 or 11. Frank Miller's Daredevil
was my next bridge until the Dark Knight
I bought my first indy comic in 1984. It was an issue of Don Simpson's Megaton Man
. [Spurgeon laughs] No, seriously.
I didn't discover the good stuff until I got to college in '89. That's when a long-haired rocker-dude from Texas on my dorm floor showed me an issue of Love & Rockets
, and that pretty much moved me off of superheroes and into the world of the Bros, Pete Bagge, Dan Clowes, Jim Woodring, Chris Ware, the Toronto-area guys, and the rest of that cohort of great cartoonists.
SPURGEON: Is there a way that comics appeal to you that breaks with how you enjoy literature or film?
I suppose there's a subset of comics -- and that's best characterized by the work of Chris Ware -- that offers formal pleasures that aren't achievable in prose or movies. I certainly groove on that aspect of comics, the composition, the spatial and temporal play, but that's not the only sort of comic I dig. I do think there's more room for experimentation in storytelling in comics than in prose. Or at least, I think there's more going on in comics than there is in contemporary fiction, but that's because I resent people younger than me having the gumption to actually write novels.
I'm all over the place when it comes to movies. I think one of their big drawbacks nowadays is that you can do something else while watching them. You can't break out your laptop or tablet and goof around while you're reading a book or comic. I mean, you can, but the book or comic doesn't keep going on while your attention shifts.
SPURGEON: You wrote a little bit about comics back in the '90s for
The Comics Journal. In fact, people thought you were a not-exactly-clever pseudonym for Gary. Given that your interest in comics has continued, do you know why you haven't written more about the form?
Oh, because I'm a terrible critic! I never worked to develop the critical apparatus and I don't have the conviction to stand by my opinions. I also spent all those years busting my ass at my day job, to the point at which I missed a deadline or two for TCJ
, as I recall. Sorry!
SPURGEON: It's okay. [laughs]
It's funny, but as so many voices have proliferated online, I find it less and less necessary to put my voice out there. I look back at years of blog-posts and wonder who I was that I thought this stuff needed to be (self-)published. I mean, I don't regret blogging my way through all of Montaigne's essays, but I don't think I'd feel the same if I'd spent that time blog-critiquing Cerebus
I think Gary loved my short pieces because I ripped the hell out of cartoonists he didn't have time to rip the hell out of.
SPURGEON: You were at one time a small press prose publisher; you've published Samuel Delany, among others. Does that give you any insight, do you think, in how the comics business works, how industry in general works on behalf of artists? What do you remember of that whole experience that still might come up now?
Not necessarily for comics, but certainly publishing overall. Back then, like 1998 to 2004, it was a ton of work to get a book produced, but I could still do it pretty much single-handedly. I mean, everything in the middle: not the writing or the actual printing and binding. The thing I couldn't do as a publisher was get people to notice these books and get bookstores to carry them.
That, I think, was the key lesson: the importance of marketing. It's gotten easier and easier to produce this stuff -- books, comics, movies, even a radio show, which is all the podcast is -- but it's gotten easier for everyone, and that makes it even harder for individual work to be found. So as a publisher -- whether of books around the turn of the century or the Virtual Memories Show now -- I think the toughest thing is promoting.
SPURGEON: So why the podcast? Why did that specific expression appeal to you and how did that develop into Virtual Memories?
20+ years ago, I wanted to start a 'zine, but I never got off my ass to do it. It was gonna be called "Glass," and the idea was to be a general interest 'zine, if those general interests were all mine. I learned years later that if the world reflected MY tastes, we'd be living on a square planet, wearing Superman costumes, and flying backwards.
All these years later, I was grooving on Marc Maron's great interview podcast, WTF, and I thought, "I like that model!" That is, I liked the idea of interviewing writers, artists, critics, and otherwise interesting people. Living and working in northern NJ meant that I could get into NYC to meet guests, and may day job involved enough travel that I could try to tie in interviews on some of my trips.
Unlike Maron, who's a born stage performer, I don't do 10- to 15-minute intros. My life doesn't have as much drama as his does, so there's less for me to ramble about. Only so many ways I can tell stories about seeing a bear while walking my dogs around the neighborhood.
Anyway, in the past, my blog served as the vessel for "All Things Gil," but I got a bit tired of writing long pieces in the social networking era. So I thought it would be interesting to record conversations instead and make a podcast out of it. I could've done those interviews as text, but transcribing is tedious, and I was already doing that at my day job, where I was the micromanaging editor of a business-to-business magazine.
SPURGEON: At what point did you know comics would be a part of what you do with VM? For that matter, how would you describe your basic approach? Is it "these are the things I'm interested in"?
Yeah, the show really is, "All Things Gil," which makes it remarkable that I've developed any listenership at all, I guess.
The idea was always, "I'll interview people whose work I dig or friends of mine who have had interesting lives." This past year, I had the experience of prose publishers pitching me writers who had new books coming out. Those were hit and miss. I enjoyed some of the books and the conversations, but some just weren't good fits. That's led me to be a little more selective.
As far as comics, that's a chunk of "All Things Gil." I had some cartoonists on my initial guest list, and I discovered that they were more interested in doing interviews than some prose writers I was interested in.
SPURGEON: How does the inclusion of cartoonists and comics people work for the podcast, do you think? How do those interviews in general mesh with the ones you do with prose authors and scholars? Do you ever get people that tell you, "I only listen to this set of people you do" or are people pretty willing kind of take the interviews as they come?
If you go by download numbers, the cartoonists are more popular than the prose writers and other guests I've had on. Except for Eva Brann, a tutor at St. John's College in Annapolis, MD. She's around 85, has been at St. John's for more than half a century, and has more podcast downloads than any other guest I've ever had. Which is pretty good, considering she doesn't own a computer and I had to send her a CD of our episode so she could listen to it.
Anyway, as comics have been accepted more broadly in the culture, it doesn't matter so much that the show includes cartoonists alongside history professors, poets, antisemitism scholars, retired Marines, literary agents, faded rock stars, David Letterman's ex-girlfriend, and everydamnbody else I've interviewed.
I added up the numbers, and maybe one-third of this year's guests were in comics, but they've made for some pretty memorable shows. I'm sure there are people who only download specific shows, for subjects or people they're interested in, but I hold out hope that if the conversation is good, they'll come back and listen to more. And there's been some of that. Listeners have e-mailed or tweeted about discovering someone they've never heard of via the show. That always makes me happy.
SPURGEON: You're all in with this podcast, as much as you're able to, it seems, in the course of your life. You've invested in equipment, you present yourself professionally at shows, and you edit pretty rigorously. I do think that makes you stand out in the course of a lot of podcasts I hear. Is that just how you orient yourself to projects, or was it important to you to approach doing VM a certain way? Do comics people always take similar care with what they do?
I didn't want to make a show that sounded like crap, although I admit the early ones could do with some remastering. Actually, that need to sound professional is what kept me from starting the podcast for quite a while. "If I can't make it sound perfect, I'm not going to do it." By the way, this is also a great way not to get started on other artistic projects, like books and comics.
I got over the anxiety of not sounding perfect, but I still wanted to improve. I did research online of course, but once I got things underway, I started asking around about good (but affordable) equipment. I even hit up Marc Maron for suggestions on portable equipment, since I knew he did some interviews in guests' hotel rooms or offices, and not just in his garage. He was kind enough to drop me a little note about mics and a recorder that turned out to be very valuable.
Near the end of 2012, I took a one-on-one class at Tekserve in New York City, which really helped me develop a good workflow for the audio files. I've upgraded my equipment a little, learned a little more about noise removal filters, but it's still a package that you can put together for $500 or so and sound really really good. The two programs I use to process, edit and output audio -- Audacity and Garage Band -- are free. I've considered moving up to Logic Pro for the editing and output, mainly because it's got a function that should save me a chunk of time when I'm editing, but the point is, you can do this relatively inexpensively.
When it comes to spending a bit ($120 each) on mics, I guess my thought is: there are a lot of reasons for someone to stop listening to my podcast, and I don't want crappy production values to be one of those reasons. I imagine that this is a lesson cartoonists and other creators have taken to heart. There are too many other things for an audience to do, consume, read, watch, etc., so you'd better approach the work with professionalism, y'know?
The irony is that, as professional as I try to make it, the Virtual Memories Show is something I do for free. I have a tip-jar on the website, but it's not like I'm planning to sell ads or start charging for "premium content" or something. I still have a day job at which I bust my ass, but it pays well enough that I can afford the equipment, the web-hosting, the drives into New York City and elsewhere to meet guests, etc. It really does warm my heart when someone makes a donation, and I do have problems with the culture of providing work for free, but the Virtual Memories Show is something I do out of love.
That sounds terrible. Don't get me wrong: commercial sponsorship would be nice, but it would a) possibly push the show in directions I don't want it to go, in terms of guests, and b) not really amount to that much money.
SPURGEON: Comics people tend to do a lot of interviews. I would say if you picked one of your newer authors and one of your newer cartoonists that you've done, the cartoonist has probably talked to a lot more media sources, such as this site -- and such as they are -- than the writer or scholar. Is that your impression as well? Does that change how you approach those interviews -- say, like, knocking someone off of their rote answers? How are cartoonists in general as interview subjects compared to other groups you do?
Cartoonists -- especially younger ones -- do tend to have more experience with interviews than literary authors, probably because of the nature of fan culture. I do like to read or listen to interviews with upcoming guests for research, and I try to avoid questions that they have those rote answers for, but that's universal.
When I interviewed Fred Kaplan about his book on David Petraeus, I'd listened to a few of his interviews about it, and when he used some of the same constructions and anecdotes he used in those earlier talks, I thought, "It's not fair of me to expect this guy to come up with completely original material for our conversation." Rather, it was on me to ask him questions outside the range of what he'd talked about, but still relevant to his work. For one thing, I completely avoided the topic of Petraeus' affair, because I don't think there's much new or interesting about a powerful man having an affair with a female subordinate.
Where was I? I've had a lot of good conversations with cartoonists. Maybe it's luck of the draw, or maybe I've been sneakily selective, but they tend to be thoughtful about their work and cognizant of the history of the form and their place in it. Also, a lot of them fall into a certain generation or range: Sikoryak, Katchor, Bagge, Drew Friedman, Kaz, Mimi Pond, Mary Fleener, Porcellino. They're all in that '80s-into-'90s stretch, largely NYC-based. Overall, my guests tend not to be that young, y'know? I'm pretty sure the youngest guest I've had was Caitlin McGurk, but she's a comics librarian and so has a strong sense of the history of the form.
SPURGEON: You've done a range of cartoonists at this point. Do you get a difference between generations? Does Seth process his influences different than Katie Skelly in a generational way, do you think?
It's funny, because I interviewed them in the same weekend at TCAF. I think Katie's the second youngest guest I've had on, but she also brought a strong non-comics background to her work and the conversation. In her case, it was literary theory, fused with a neat artistic sensibility. The contrast with someone like Seth, I think, is mainly vivid in terms of experience. He's had more time to read, to make comics, to live. If you call that living. (ha-ha)
I haven't interviewed enough younger cartoonists -- and this is a failing of mine -- to figure out how they differ from, say, Sam Gross, who's been drawing gag panels for like 60 years. I can't help it: I'm much more interested in learning about the life of a guy like Sam, who's reached zen master status with his work, than a younger artist who's still figuring stuff out.
Unless I like that younger artist's work, as was the case with Katie, as well as Nina Bunjevac, who's near my age, but only took up cartooning relatively recently. All things Gil, y'know?
Now a theme that's come up repeatedly in conversations with non-young cartoonists has been how they think their work would have evolved if they came up nowadays. There's a lot of ambivalence about -- to simplify -- the replacement of 'zines with Tumblrs. The culture of "Like" is really problematic to artists, it seems. Do you wind up chasing "Like"s to the point of hurting your progress as an artist? Taking to John Porcellino about that, he felt that it likely would have taken him on a much different path than he took by making King-Cat Comics & Stories, mailing out copies, and getting mail weeks or months later.
I admit: I care about getting good numbers of downloads, but that's more a function of my wanting more people to hear these guests and what they have to say. At least, that's what I tell myself.
SPURGEON: You've interviewed all the Friedmans, or at least the male members of the clan. What was that experience like, negotiating in at least some way that family dynamic. Drew Friedman's actually been around more these last few years -- in comics circles -- than he had been before. Is he underappreciated, do you think?
I called that series, "Capturing the Other Friedmans," because if you can't make a joke with child molestation overtones, you shouldn't be interviewing Drew Friedman.
That whole series of interviews -- Drew, then younger brother Kipp, then older brother Josh Alan, then their father, Bruce Jay Friedman -- was fascinating. Beyond the conversation about their work, the family dynamics kept growing more intricate as I interviewed each one. I wanted to go back and reinterview them in light of all the little revelations and hints. It's almost like some sorta Jewish Gothic, except with stories about Gilbert Gottfried.
It was gratifying that all three brothers made the time to talk, and that each got me closer to their dad, who I consider one of the great postwar writers in America. More than that, they've each treated me much more nicely than I have any reason to expect from people I've only met in relation to the podcast. At SPX last September, Drew told me this is because I look like a cousin of theirs from Fair Lawn, NJ, so they've taken a shine to me. Go figure.
Anyway, it's fantastic that Drew's work has gotten such acclaim. I remember that when I told one cartoonist that I'd be interviewing Drew, he said, "One thing I want to know: How he is so goddamned prolific? He makes painting after painting and never slows down!"
SPURGEON: You went to his Society of Illustrators gallery opening, which was one of two or three comics-related events this year. Can you talk about that a bit? I take it you had a really good time.
That was one of the most entertaining experiences of my life. First, to get back to my previous comment, it's where I figured out how Drew is so goddamned prolific with those paintings. They're small! Maybe 5" x 5" or so! They reproduce great in those Old Jewish Comedians books, but they're not that big. So that helps him do more work, I'm figuring.
That event celebrated the Old Jewish Comedians series, and had Drew's original paintings beside photos of the comedians, along with writeups about the subjects. There were two floors devoted to the exhibition. and there were also display cases with various bits of ephemera, like old records by these comics, joke books, and other gear.
For the opening event, a bunch of Drew Friedman-level celebrities were in attendance. I don't mean anything cruel by that, just that the headliner was Joe Franklin. It was the only party I've ever attended where the words, "Abe Vigoda is here!" blew the roof off the place.
My personal highlight, beyond meeting Abe -- who used to live in my town in NJ -- and shooting the breeze with Gilbert Gottfried, came when I met Robert Kline. The exhibition was on two floors, and when I saw Mr. Kline on the main floor looking at portraits, I said to him, "Sir, I noticed that your portrait is in the downstairs gallery, if you'd like me to show you."
He said, "Downstairs?! Call my fucking agent! What the hell am I doing downstairs?!"
I took him down and showed him his painting. He and I were the only two people in the downstairs gallery, and he basically took me on a tour. We went from picture to picture, and he told me stories of all these old comedians he'd seen when he was young. Plus, stories of Alan King's drinking. It was unforgettable, and literally priceless. I wrote him after to see about getting him on the show, but the sonofabitch never called back, that louse.
SPURGEON: I wanted to ask you a couple of consumer questions. I watched you buy a giant Walt Simonson book... how much does nostalgia play into your own reading of comics, do you think? Also, you own a bunch of Jaime Hernandez's ink drawings that he does. What for you is the value in enjoying Jaime's art?
Oh, man, that IDW Simonson Thor book was one of those impulse purchases that I don't regret in the slightest. I bought IDW's Mazzucchelli Daredevil edition, too, for the same reason. I'm not sure if it's nostalgia, exactly. I have a funny relationship to superhero comics from my youth. I don't read that genre, and I have some sorta violent antipathy to the whole superhero movie craze. I think what I have is a nostalgia not for the content of those comics themselves, but for the stage in my life where I could be fulfilled by finding them. Y'know, that joy at finding the missing issue of the X-Men. I have zero interest in knowing what these characters are up to, but I guess I miss the hunt. A few years ago, my wife asked me about that Planetary series, which I'd bought with some interest. There was an issue missing from the series, and I hunted down that ish to a comic shop a few towns away. We drove out there on a Sunday afternoon to pick it up. I realized how much I missed that little thrill. Not enough to spend hundreds of bucks a month on superhero adventures, but hey.
The first time I met Mazzucchelli, at the Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Festival, I started our conversation by mentioning my favorite story from his Rubber Blanket series, "Discovering America." Only after that did I cop to buying the IDW book of his Daredevil run, because that comic was awesome when I was a freshman in high school. He said, "I'm glad your tastes matured at the same time my art was maturing," or something like that.
As far as original art and drawings go, I like having work from artists I dig. I'll never splurge on original pages of Jaime's art (unless he recovers the stolen pages from Flies on the Ceiling), but his ink drawings are great to have on the walls. When I was at Mary Fleener's home in November, I was happy to see that she's got TONS of art on display. She used to work as a framer, and made it a project to get all of that stuff framed. And that's one of the great things for me about the podcast. I wasn't going to hang out in Mary Fleener's house and see all this art as a trade association executive.
SPURGEON: One of the places you do your podcast is at conventions: TCAF and SPX. The thought that you fly into TCAF is amazing to me. What have the comics shows meant to you -- we have an idea of what they mean to working pros, but just as someone interested in the art form, what is it about those two shows that works for you?
Oh, TCAF is one of my favorite comics-related events. That said, I've got family in Toronto, as well as business contacts, and it's only a 70-minute flight from Newark, so it's not like it's too weird for me to go every year. I love meeting some of the cartoonists and discovering new comics, and now it gives me the opportunity to record shows with people who aren't in the NY area often, like Seth.
This past SPX in Maryland, I went out to dinner with you, Bill Kartalopoulos, Dominique Goblet, and Yvan Alagbe. At one point, Dominque asked me about my comics, and I said, "I don't make comics. I'm just here because I like comics. Oh, and I have a car." She was surprised. At the same time, I was kinda struck by the notion that everyone at a comics event would be a practitioner.
SPURGEON: It seems like you've talked to a bunch of people that have tricky or complicated relationships to the art they do, people with varying levels of involvement, even, in comics. Do you have a sense of how that great alt-comics generation is doing, entering into their late 40s through their 60s? Could that industry, that culture, be kinder or work more effectively for artists like Ivan Brunetti and Peter Bagge and Mary Fleener. Is there a contrast between how cartoonists are oriented towards a lifetime of work that contrasts with the prose writers you know?
In both comics and prose, I think virtually no one makes a living just from their art. It was probably easier for those cartoonists in the '80s and '90s because the market was better and because they could live cheaper when they were younger, but I haven't asked too many of them about the Glory Days.
When I interviewed Kaz recently, I asked him if there was a cartoonist who left the field who he really missed. Without skipping a beat, he said, "Mark Beyer." And I bet there are a ton of other ones who left or can't work on comics full-time. I oughtta go through my longboxes of comics from that era and see who's still around.
Mary Fleener and I talked about why she hasn't made so many comics for a while, and the economics of work are important. But then, I've talked with a lot of prose writers and journalists in their 50s and 60s who are desperately chasing university jobs and freelance gigs that pay a lot worse than they did 20 years ago. So, yeah, the industry could be more supportive of cartooning legends as they get older, but I just don't think there are a lot of opportunities for an adult with a family and a mortgage to get by just making comics.
Again: square planet, Superman costumes, flying backwards, and Bagge, Richard Sala, Kevin Huizenga, Evan Dorkin and my other faves would all be doing well enough to live comfortably off of comics they really want to make. And I'd have more listeners than Serial
SPURGEON: How did Jules Feiffer surprise you, if at all? I know that was a big get for you, personally. Does he receive the attention he deserves?
I think my biggest surprise was when an 85-year-old cartoonist told me that he's working on a sequel and prequel to his 150-page graphic novel. He was also pretty disarming, making it easy to not put him on a pedestal for the conversation.
I don't think he does get the attention he deserves. The download numbers for his episode were middle of the road, for what that's worth. I consider the guy a legend, and he's certainly the biggest name I've ever interviewed. First Oscar-winner, too. It may just be a demographic thing. "Those goddamned kids today don't know what they're missing!" I do know that at SPX in 2014, where I met Feiffer, there were cartoonists whom I'm in awe of who were basically bowing in obeisance before him. He worked for Will Eisner, ferchrissakes!
I'd love to see a resurgence or re-appreciation of Feiffer's work. I really enjoyed his memoir, Backing Into Forward
, which I read in preparation for our conversation. There's a lot in there for artists -- and I mean cartoonists, writers, creators of any stripe -- to learn, as well as some absolutely hysterical scenes of his youth and his Army days, and some great gossip from his Hollywood experiences.
SPURGEON: What was it like to come to John Porcellino's mostly cold until you started to prepare for the interview? I think I can narc on you that way without any blowback. But you found him accessible even with Hospital Suite being a first work. What was your impression of his work?
It was a real revelation to discover John's work. I felt bad for missing King-Cat
all these decades, but I'm a pro at making excuses. I did read Hospital Suite
first, before the earlier collections arrived in the mail, so that was a little weird.
The upside is, the stories in Hospital Suite
are accessible and deeply engaging whether or not you know John's history as portrayed in his comics. If anything, it was neat to go back and read those giant collections and see the areas where the trials of the Hospital Suite
era were taking place, those big gaps in what he could tell stories about. So I got to eat the donut hole before the donut, is what I'm trying to say.
SPURGEON: Is there a particular cartoonist interview you'd recommend that might surprise people; one that you've done? For that matter, is there anyone else's interview with a cartoonist you admire?
Oh, I love the Roger Langridge one from SPX 2013, because he's just the sweetest guy in comics. I think one of the most surprising ones is the Wayne White one from last month, where he talked about how much he wants to go back to making comics. Given that he's become a famous fine artist and the subject of a great documentary, I was surprised to find how much he wanted to go back to funnybooks.
As far as other interviews go, I'm embarrassed to say that I don't spend a lot of time listening to many podcasts nowadays.
SPURGEON: What's the last great comic you read?
Fiction -- Here
, by Richard McGuire. Non-fiction -- Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant?
, by Roz Chast. Who was an awesome guest, especially when she collapsed into hysterics trying to explain how she spends time on the internet looking at terrible pictures of Tofurky.
* Virtual Memories
* Gil Roth with Ben Katchor during their live interview a couple of years back (photo by Amy Beadle Roth
* Dark Phoenix, Byrne And Austin
* Voyant's 1984
a book with Samuel Delany
* the scholar Eva Brann, and aspirational object for number of downloads
* this photo of Roth with Wayne White gives you a good look at his travel kit
* Roth with Drew Friedman
* Roth with Abe Vigoda
* Mark Beyer
* Jules Feiffer, Gil's photo
* Roger Langridge, my photo
* masthead for the Virtual Memories
posted 11:00 pm PST
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