Zap Comix are Squinky Comix

Bill and Mary Reynolds lived with their cats Mercedes and Evinrude on a house that floated in one of the lakes of Seattle. Bill will have to set me straight on which one that was. Tom stayed with the Reynolds.’ I think I was visiting my aunt and uncle Corinne and Norman Ackley in 1968. Norman had gotten Tom a 1953 Chevy sedan somehow, for 50 dollars, from a client of his. I’ll never forget the fright I felt when Tom took me across a bridge from the University of Washington district to the part of the lake where he was living.

Anyway, Bill and some of him and Tom’s friends had gotten good jobs working for the city as caretakers of the city parks. This allowed for lots of slack, plenty of money, and opportunities to purchase some decent weed from their friends who dealt in such.

It also provided money to purchase Zap Comix. I’ll never forget listening to Bill’s Quicksilver Messenger Service record while paging through Zap issue number “00.” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Up until then I had no idea that ideas could be expressed so eloquently using pictures and words together to express truth.

Soon we bought Rapidograph (T) pens that inevitably clogged up and went south. The best pens were had the finest tips. The pens, in case you don’t know about them, had a reservoir for India ink, and a tip with a barrel through which a weighted needle protruded slightly to touch the paper. If one shook the pen the weight would jog the needle through the barrel.

Once the needle bent or the pen clogged with dry ink, it was ruined for ever. Nothing could bring it back to life. Pens cost lots of money, like $5. We didn’t have $5, so we didn’t draw that much. We had friends who did draw, but they drew because they could sell their work to a hippie newspaper or the like.