Today's tax place waver.

I looked over at him; he was yelling something. A dirty gray hat was under his crown, and ankle-high USA socks were tucked into his Sketchers ShapeUps. I turned down the Beatles song I was listening to, but that wasn't enough. He looked like Martin Starr. Passenger window down further, driver window up completely. His lips were moving, but he wasn't facing me, as he stomped, danced, and waved. Oblivious to passers-by, I caught what he was saying. In the brief time that he faced my car, I heard the man say "Helloooo, helloooo, helloooo... I hail from Scotland" in his mostly Shrek-ish sounding accent. I giggled as my light turned green.

Logomotion

*The views in this blog are that of Rusty Kugler, and are not necessarily the views of Mid-Continent Public Library.

This is the logo of the place where I work.

It's a 7-color logo, with an abstract open rainbow book above garamond and gill sans type. At first I HATED this logo. It really was a big pain to work with, but as a monochrome logo, it's WAY easier to use, and just became part of my daily work.

The Library held a contest in 1988 for someone to design a new logo, with a VCR as the prize. Wow. Yep, a VCR. Pictured below is Brent Harris, an Associate Art Director of Hallmark, who designed our current logo. Poor guy.

We've slapped this logo on all kinds of things, and now I've appointed myself the unofficial "Keeper of the Logo." I've written a visual style guide about how the logo should be applied and when, and I sometimes feel as though I'm caring for an endangered animal who's living out in the wild. "Out in the wild?!" What am I talking about? Well, I'm talking about the internet. The digital wilderness of the world, and our logo is out there running free. I recently did a Google Image search of our logo, and was astonished at the findings.

First, I'll show the "designers" who take our logo and pass it off as theirs:

And it's bad enough that someone "designed" East Chicago Public Library's logo with stolen parts, they totally don't even know their logo is really ours.

BUT WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO PUT SUCH A COLORFUL LOGO ON TOP OF ANOTHER COLOR?! ARE YOU GUYS DUMMIES?! YOU CAN'T EVEN READ YOUR STOLEN LOGO!!!

But I digress...

Even the US Government has stolen our logo, re-worked it, and called it their own:

Horrible acts of font treachery have been acted upon our dear logo, like this chop-shop job from a library in NJ:

Or yes, even Jokerman from Brampton Library's FB page. NOOOOO!!! NOT MY BABYYYY!!!

Now I'm just going to post some of the more insane ones I found as I scrolled through the Google Image search. This is just the first 30 pages of them:

So this brings me to wondering just who this Brent Harris is... Random designer?

Or visionary logo designer of the world?

A week with Frank and James.

I recently found out that Wild West outlaw, Frank James is buried just a short drive across town here in Independence, MO. So... I decided to go over there and take a look. He's buried in a small cemetery in a ghetto part of town, but the stone walls and pumpkin plant growing in the corner of the yard was very charming.

I decided that the rest of the week, I'm either going to do something that pertains to 'Frank' or 'James.' It was Frank James week!

Tuesday, I took a photo with my boss, Jim (James).

Wednesday, I met my friend Frank and took a picture with him.

Thursday, I met a card-carrying member of Friends of James Farm.

Friday, I ate a frank. This is the worst blog post ever.

Does this man live in Independence?

Lets go down the checklist:
• 'Merica shirt? Check.
• Black and brown dad shoes? Check.
• Athletic shorts? Check.
• Ponytail? Check.
• Jeff Gordon NASCAR hat? Check.
• Bruises? Yeah, that's not really a factor. But, Check.

Yes, this man lives in Independence.

Does this man live in Independence?

Does this man live in Independence?

Lets go down the checklist:
• Shirt off? Check.
• White, dad New Balance shoes? Check.
• Smoking a cigar? Check.
• Beautiful long hair? Check.
• Chest tat? Check.
• Gold chain? Check.
• Hanging out outside a ghetto daycare? Check.

Yes, this man lives in Independence.

Hot Rods and Flatbeds.

Last week, I went to Steak and Shake to get some lunch. As I was sitting in my booth, I heard the faintest, most grizzly voice I've ever heard. It sounded as if its owner ate lit cigarettes all day while smoking cigarettes and then ate those cigarettes too. It was as if a bulldozer was outside dragging a car that was chained to a Harley that was getting hailed on by gravel.

I looked over, and the image did not disappoint.

 This guy was in "Burt Reynolds mode." A true flashback of Americana, he played the part incredibly. Slicked back hair, Rhett Butler 'stache, blurred-out name tat on his hand, and drinking a sweet tea.

I couldn't make out all of the words that he was saying, but I didn't need to know them all. I heard the best ones. Here's a list of the words I caught:

• Tars (tires), which he said like 4 times.
• '55. I'm assuming he was talking about a car.
• Whiskey. 'Nuff said.
• Kentucky. Yep.
• Shrimp. Hmm... interesting...
• Football field.
• Flatbed. This one's probably my favorite.

I loved seeing this guy. He's a dying breed.

The Walking Man Walks

Every day I see this man. Walking. Up and down the sidewalk. I've seen him walking at almost every point on my route to work at any given time of the day.

At first, I wondered... "Is this a man, or a woman?" The hair suggests a woman, but a rugged flannel shirt says "This is a manly-man shirt." 

And then, there's the shorts... Volleyball teams wouldn't be seen in such short shorts.

I guess if I had leg muscles like these, I'd probably wear less than shorts too. Nice shave job.

I've adopted the name "Chris" for him when talking in the workplace with co-workers who also pass by this man day by day. I call him Chris, because he's always Walken. (Christopher Walken). Yeah, it's lame, but I don't really know his name. 

Every day, same wardrobe. Short-shorts, hair pulled back high, trainers, a tank top and flannel over it. Oh, and water and sometimes a yoga mat or something. Then one day, he wore a KC Chiefs shirt. 

Yesterday, I went to the grocery store, and Chris was there. Like a child seeing Michael Jackson's moonwalk for the first time, I was in awe as I ran up to him. "Hey man... (hey) I always see you walking... (yeah) Um, where are you going?" With a very controlled stare, he said "I walk to the gym. Miles and miles. If you see me walking, I'm either walking to or from the gym. One to two times a day. (Woah...)" "So, like, what do you do there at the gym, like yoga or swim?" 

He took a deep breath and exhaled very slowly. With metered blinks he calmly said "I'm trying to get back into bodybuilding. It's what I do."

Woah. In my head all of the weirdest questions were circling. Like why does he walk? Why a flannel shirt on a 95 degree day? Do you have a job? But all I could think to say was "Cool. Keep it up, man."

He nodded politely and walked away. 

I really do think I've seen him somewhere before. Oh yeah! Here:

Walking man in the 80s?