One day I was riding my bike down J.P. Timbaud, and saw Fat Freddy’s Cat painted on the outside of a storefront. Turns out, Gilbert Shelton’s publisher has a comix store and tea house just around the corner from where we live, and he’s got a box of vintage Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers T-shirts that Shelton gave him to sell. The one I want is 40 euros and probably way too small, but I’m going to go on a protracted diet and then haggle him.
A few weeks ago, some bands played an event where Shelton and Pic were signing comix, and we popped in and drank some wine and chatted with them for about an hour. After awhile, a six-year-old French boy walked up and asked Shelton to draw something in his sketch book, and it was (for me) a thrill to sit next to Shelton and watch him draw the Freak Brothers and Fat Freddy’s Cat. I wonder what the kid was thinking.
Shelton told me a story about eating in a Parisian cafe with my friend Ed Alexander from Real de Catorce and the waitress thinking they were brothers, which I can totally see.
Later, I joked to Pic that he should sign my chest. You know, like rock stars sign breasty chests. After which, he would not let go of the idea. It wasn’t until after he was finished that I realized what he’d drawn.