I had a full day to give to my sketchbook, so I hopped on the 1 California with all my gear and cruised out to The Bazaar Cafe. 

I've been playing "My Dad" for years. I was probably 16, the first time I got drunk and cried into my beer to a bunch of other Irish-American meatheads. When I was pawing through stories in my head to illustrate, this was at the forefront.

I started the piece by laying out a classic 9 panel grid, then I wrote and drew it simultaneously. I figured out the basic atoms that I needed to tell the story over my first cup of coffee and massaged them into the grid over my second. Then I stepped outside, listened to some jazz, went back in and ordered a slice of Peach-Strawberry pie and I dumped ink all over the page with my trusty brush pen. I might have gotten over zealous at times (and I lettered haphazardly at best), but it gave the final piece a certain chaotic charm.